


I'd Be Willing

by thoughtlessblogger



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Criminals, Angst, Criminal Louis, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, POV Louis, it's kind of an Ocean's Eleven AU, larry stylinson - Freeform, really they're all criminals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 10:05:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2344436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thoughtlessblogger/pseuds/thoughtlessblogger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis's just out of prison and instead of turning his life around, he hunts down his best mate Zayn and tells him of his latest Get Rich Quick plan. Zayn reluctantly agrees, but what he doesn't know is that Louis's plan is about more than getting money, it's about getting revenge on his ex-partner in crime. Together they gather a team and head to Las Vegas. On the journey Louis finds himself falling for Harry, one of the team, and starts picturing what his life would be like if they were to leave the business.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'd Be Willing

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. Let me just start off saying that I never intended to post this. It was just something I wrote for my own personal enjoyment, but the other day I started writing something that's a sequel to this. I really like it so far and want to post it, but it wouldn't make sense without this, so I made the decision to go ahead and post it.  
> It is an Ocean's Eleven AU. I will admit I did borrow some of the characters, but they're ones that don't play a major role. I also borrowed some of the technical dialogue (because wtf do I know about stealing from a casino vault). I don't own any of that.  
> Also, I quite like Nick Grimshaw and I don't usually like when authors use him as the villain, but I thought he worked with this.  
> Again, I wrote this for myself, so it's not as good as I'd like it to be.  
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated.  
> And if you want come talk to me on tumblr at thoughtlessblogger.

Louis hates these meetings. He's had two already and – like those two – he's not going to be awarded parole. He knows this, which is why he isn't going into this feigning hopefulness and politeness. Besides, he's too tired to try to be anything but the arrogant dick he is.

“Good morning,” says the grey haired parole board member that has been in Louis's other two meetings.

“Morning,” Louis mutters as he's pushed into the seat across from the three parole board members.

“Please state your name for the record,” says the woman on the left.

“Louis Tomlinson.”

“Thank you.” The woman pauses to shuffle some papers about. “Mr. Tomlinson, the purpose of this meeting is to determine whether, if released, you are likely to break the law again.” Louis fights the urge to interrupt. He's heard this same speech twice before. At this point he could almost recite it. “While this was your first conviction, you have been implicated, though never charged, in over a dozen other confidence schemes and frauds. What can you tell us about this?”

“As you say,” Louis says wearing his best smile, “I was never charged.”

The man on the left lets out a small chuckle, but quickly recomposes his face when the woman gives him a pointed look. “Mr. Tomlinson,” the man says after clearing his throat, “what we're trying to find out is: was there a reason you chose to commit this crime, or was there a reason why you simply got caught this time?”

Louis snorts. He could tell the truth again, but it hasn't gotten him anywhere before. “My wife left me.” Even Louis is confused by where that came from. It's too late to not say it, though. Might as well try to lie his way through. It can't be any worse than telling the truth and getting no where. Besides, Louis is a brilliant actor. “I was upset. I got into a self-destructive pattern.” 

The man on the left sits forward. “If released, is it likely you would fall back into a similar pattern?” 

Louis's taken aback for a second. He's good at lying, but he's not that good. Surely they have to have a file that states that he's never been married, let alone in a relationship with a woman. “She already left me once,” he forces out. “I don't think she'll do it again just for kicks.”

The board members dart glances between themselves before the man positioned in the middle speaks up. “Mr. Tomlinson, what do you think you would do if released?”

Louis considers his answer for a moment. “I don't know. How much do you guys make in a year?” he asks deadpan.

**

He's still not sure he believes that he's being released on parole, especially after lying his way through the meeting. He keeps expecting for someone to come up to him saying they made a mistake and he has to go back to his cell.

“Tomlinson, Louis,” states the guard. Louis steps forward and the guard hands him his possessions. There isn't much – his I.D. Card, wallet, keys, and his favorite dark gray suit he was wearing when he was brought in. “Sign,” the guard says, slapping a form down on the table. When Louis signs it and hands it back, the guard hands him an envelope. “This came for you today. Rest'll be forwarded to your parole officer.” Louis opens the envelope and starts skimming the paper. “Those from your lawyer?”

“My wife's.” They're not, but why drop the act now? They could change their minds.

“What's it say?” Nosey little fellow.

Louis looks up. “I'm a free man.” Before giving the guard a chance to say anything else, Louis grabs his stuff and walks away.

**

Dressed in his suit, Louis takes his first step into free England. It's not as invigorating as he'd thought it would be, which is slightly disappointing, but he doesn't have time to dwell on it. The first thing he's going to do is find Zayn. The letter had been from him, naming off a place and time to meet up. He hasn't heard from Zayn in almost three years and he's confused as to how Zayn knew he was getting out today, but it's Zayn and truth be told he had something to do with it. This should be interesting, Louis thinks while looking at the address. It's The Casino At The Empire.

**

He's sitting in a buzzing casino. The hum of conversation around him. The ding-ding-ding and think-thunk-thunk from the slots, the brisk whir of shuffled cards. It's a nice atmosphere. Certainly one that he's familiar with. He pulls out some money, setting it on the green felt of the playing table and they're replaced by a neat pile of chips.

Louis cranes his neck around the casino. He's looking for Zayn but he's not seeing him. A bit of a disappointment. When he turns his attention back to the cards of his and the dealer's he sees that he's won.

The dealer is almost immediately replaced by another and AH. Yes. This isn't who he was looking for, but he'll do. Louis smiles widely. “Hello, Frank.”

Frank glances up at Louis and his eyes widen, but quickly hides his astonishment. “I beg your pardon, sir. You must have me confused with someone else. My name is Ramon.” He taps at the name embroidered on his vest. Louis has to force his laugh down. Frank is the most African looking Ramon he's ever seen.

“My mistake.” Louis collects his chips, which have doubled. “Tables cold anyway.”

“You might try the lounge at the Grand, sir. It gets busy around one,” Frank offers.

Louis mutters a 'thanks' as he walks away.

**

Louis checks his watch to see it's twelve fifty-eight, then checks the lounge around him. Prison had more of a nightlife, he thinks. He takes a drink of his bourbon, folds back the paper and starts scanning the headlines.

His eyes are moving quickly down the page, but stops at the header - “Vegas' Paradiso to be Razed; Former Owner Denounces Plans”. There's two accompanying photographs. The first shows a tan, well-coiffed developer and the new owner of the Paradiso, Nick Grimshaw. _Prick._ The second is a picture of a scowling Simon Cowell. This is a good thing to know.

“Catching up on current events?” Frank's voice asks.

Louis lowers the paper to see Frank sitting across from him. He's changed out of his dealer's threads. “Ramon?”

“Glad to meet you. Frank Catton wouldn't get by the gaming board.” He pauses. “You just get out?”

“This afternoon,” he answers.

“And already turning over a new leaf.”

“You seen him?” Louis asks directly.

“He's teaching people how to play cards.” Frank's eyes narrow. “Why? You don't have something planned already?”

“You kidding? I just became a citizen again.”

Frank stares for a moment and Louis can't help but grin.

“It's tough now, our line of work,” Frank informs him. “Everybody's so serious. Too many guns, too many computers. What are you gonna do? Steal from ordinary people?”

“That would be criminal,” Louis says, feigning innocence.

“So what's left? Banks? Ha. Banks don't have the money. Everything is electronic. Only place that takes cash is...”

“Casinos.”

Realization floods Frank's face. “Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“When?”

“Soon. Interested?” Louis asks, arching an eye brow.

Frank smiles and Louis knows he's got him.

**

Louis's having a nice conversation with the other players when the door opens and a dark haired man enters. The man sits at the table, having not noticed Louis, Topher – the man on his right – motions at Louis. The man looks up and scrunches his face up when he sees Louis. He doesn't look surprised, just annoyed.

“What's this?” he asks.

“The bouncer,” Louis indicates toward the door, “mentioned there was a game in progress. Hope I'm not intruding.” He adds the last part with a smirk. Zayn should have known Louis wasn't going to stick to the time and place he'd picked.

“No intrusion at-,” Topher starts, but is cut of by Zayn asking, “What was his name, the bouncer's?”

Louis's silent a minute. “I don't remember.”

“A card player with amnesia,” Zayn mutters. “This should be fun,” he adds, dealing the next hand.

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Tomlinson?” Barry asks. “If you don't mind me asking.”

“Why should I mind?” he replies. “Two cards please.” He waits for Zayn to deal him the cards before answering as nonchalantly as possible. “I just got out of prison.”

“Really?” Topher asks.

“Barry, you're showing again,” Zayn says. They aren't showing. These people may not notice Zayn's attempt to divert the attention away from him, but he does.

“Sorry,” Barry mumbles, adjusting his cards.

“What'd you, uh, go to prison for?” asks a guy whose name Louis doesn't remember.

“I stole things,” Louis answers flippantly.

“Like jewels? Or diamonds?”

Louis isn't sure how to answer. Zayn beats him to it anyway. “Incan matrimonial headmasks.”

Everyone at the table exchanges glances before Topher asks, “From a museum?”

“Gallery,” Louis offers.

“There a lot of money in that?” Barry asks. “Incan matri-”.

Louis cuts him off. “Some.”

“Don't let him fool you, Barry,” Zayn says, dealing the cards out. “There's boatloads. If you can move the things,” he pauses to finish his deal. “But you can't.”

“My fence seemed confident enough,” Louis replies.

“If you're dealing with cash, you don't need a fence,” Zayn offers back, not looking up from his cards.

Louis scoffs. “Some people just lack vision.”

“Probably everybody in cell block E,” Zayn jokes.

Louis knows now that all pretense of not knowing each other is gone. He also knows that whatever Zayn had wanted was not a friendly thing, judging from the steely glare he keeps giving to Louis.

“Well, that's all behind us now,” Louis says, trying to diffuse the tension.

“I should hope so,” Zayn snorts.

Louis smiles icily – that's how the others will see it anyway – and pulls out his wallet. “I'll raise you five hundred pounds.”

Everyone quiets and watches him and Zayn stare at each other. “Guys, day one: what's the first thing about poker?”

“Uh, never bet on,” the nameless guy starts, but is interrupted by Topher.

“Leave emotion at the door,” he quotes.

“That's right. My friend here just raised me out of pique.” Zayn pauses. “Today's lesson. How to draw out a bluff. This early in the game that much money, I'm thinking he's holding nothing better than a pair of face cards.” Zayn turns toward the guy with the name Louis can't remember. “Seth, raise him.”

Seth – thank god Louis has a name now – hesitates. “Okay. Uh, your five hundred and another two?”

Zayn nods and Seth pushes his chips to the center of the table.

“Seven to me,” Topher says. “Plus three.”

“Indeed,” Zayn says. “But be careful you don't push him too high too fast. Want to keep him on the leash. I call.”

“What's that to me?” asks Barry. “A thousand?”

“All you have to do is call,” Zayn informs him.

“Your girlfriend holding your purse?” Louis asks Barry when he hesitates.

It does the trick, though. Barry is in. Now it's Louis's bet. He checks his hand as Seth starts to whisper to Topher. “Contrary to what Mr. Malik may say, Seth, I always check my cards before I make a bet. But be careful. I could tell from your face you're holding three of a kind or better.” He pauses to dig his wallet out again. “Five hundred to call. And two grand more.” Louis stares down Zayn, who's looking a little pale.

“Guys, you're free to do what you like. It's a lot of money, but I'm staying in. He's trying to buy his way out of his bluff.”

Nobody looks too eager to call, but Louis knows they don't want to leave a grand on the table, either. Finally, Seth ponies up and the others follow suit.

“We call,” Zayn states.

Louis waits a second before setting down his hand – four nines. It's a winner and he watches the others, jaws dropped, throw their cards in. For the first time since Louis's been here Zayn's steely expression is broken.

“Shit. Sorry, guys. I – I was sure he was bluffing.”

As Zayn plummets in the estimation of the guys around him, Louis takes his pot. “Thanks for the game, lads.” Louis stands and walks out knowing Zayn will follow.

**

They're riding silently. They have been since Zayn climbed into Louis's car. He's going to give Zayn whatever amount of time he needs.

“That was,” Zayn starts. “That was just...” he trails off.

“Unprofessional?” Louis offers.

Zayn nods, then asks, “How was the clink? You get the biscuits I sent you?”

Louis snorts. “That was two years ago.” Without waiting for Zayn to respond, he reaches in his jacket and pulls out an envelope. “Ten grand. Half of it's yours.”

Zayn looks offended. “You barge into my new workplace, ruin my professional reputation, least you could do is tell me you've got something better for me.”

He smirks. “I've got something better for you.”

**

They're sitting in some odd, little diner Zayn insisted they stop at.

“You didn't like the biscuits?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “That was all I got from you.”

“To be fair, I was working on getting you out the whole time. It was hard. I finally gave in and blackmailed the head of the parole board.” That explains it. “You could've waited to meet me where I said.”

“Not dramatic enough.”

It's Zayn that rolls his eyes this time. “Alright. So tell me.”

Louis leans forward and lowers his voice. It's very unlikely that anyone here would listen to them, but he's not taking his chances. “It's tricky. No one's ever done it before. Needs planning, a large crew.”

“Guns?”

“I'm positive someone will have them, but I'm not planning on killing anyone,” he adds when Zayn raises an eyebrow. “It has to be very precise. There's a lot of security. But the take-.”

“What's the target?”

“Eight figures each.”

“What's. The. Target.”

“When's the last time you were in Las Vegas?” He asks, ignoring Zayn.

“What?” Zayn doesn't seem that surprised. “You wanna knock over a casino?”

Louis shakes his head, lifting three fingers, watching as Zayn's eyes widen. “Three?” Louis nods. “Why?”

Louis could tell Zayn the truth, but Zayn would be all Zayn about it. He'd try to talk Louis out of it, which is not what Louis wants. The thing is, he doesn't exactly have a lie to tell. “It's something to do,” he settles on. It seems to do the trick as Zayn relaxes. Louis's better at conning his best friend than he thought.

**

Louis is searching through a cabinet full of blueprints, while Zayn holds the torch. When he finds the set of blueprints he wants, he takes them out and walks over to the desk, setting it out.

“The vault at the Bellagio.”

Zayn scans the blueprints. “If I'm reading this right – and I know that I am – this is probably the least accessible vault ever designed.” He pauses. “Oops. Actually, you know what, I'm wrong. It's _definitely_ the least accessible vault ever designed.”

“Yes.” Of course Louis knows that.

Zayn's brow furrows. “You said three casinos....” He trails off.

Louis leans over and flips to the next blueprint. “These feed into the cages at both the Mirage and the M.G.M. Grand.” He taps his finger where the vault is shown. “But every dime ends up here.”

Zayn's brow furrows deeper as he looks up. “The Belllagio, Mirage, and – These are Nick Grimshaw's places.”

“Yes, they are.” Honestly, Louis's surprised this took Zayn as long as it did. “Think he'll mind?”

“More than somewhat,” Zayn says. Louis starts rolling up the blueprints. “You'd need at least a dozen guys, doing a combination of cons.”

“Like what, you think?” Louis asks, not turning around.

“Well, off the top of my head, I'd say you're looking at a Boesky, a Jim Brown, a Miss Daisy, two Jethros, and a Leon Spinks. Oh, and the biggest Ella Fitzgerald ever.” Zayn pauses for a second before asking, “Where do you think you're gonna get the money to back this?”

“As long as we're hitting these three casinos, we'll get our bankroll.” Louis turns to face Zayn. “Nick Grimshaw has a list of enemies.”

“But does he have enemies with loose cash and nothing to lose...” Zyan trails off, smiling as realization hits him. “Aha.”

Louis smiles back at him. “Aha. So...”

“So, here's what I think,” Zayn starts, lowering himself into a chair. “You should take this plan, kick it around for a week or two. Sleep on it. Turn it over in your head. Then, never bring it up to me again.”

Thrown off, Louis blinks slowly. “Uh-huh. So what are you saying?”

“I'm saying: this is like trying to build a house of cards on the deck of a speeding boat.”

“Really?” Louis asks, tilting his head. “I thought it was much harder than that-.”

He cuts off when the light from a torch hits them from the doorway. Zayn stands quickly.

“Jesus, Oscar, lower it a little, will ya?” Louis asks, holding his hand up to block the light from his eyes.

“Sorry,” Oscar mumbles. “You two done up here?”

“Yeah, thanks. You mind if we borrow a couple of drawings for the night? Make some copies?” Oscar nods his head and Louis pulls out his wallet. “'Preciate it.”

**

“I need a reason.” Zayn says, as they're waiting for the lift. “And don't say money.” After a second he adds, “Why do this?”

“Why not do it?” Louis counters. He can't understand why Zayn is being so difficult about this, except he can. He gets that this is a big scheme and there's a very big possibility that it will fail, but Louis's been waiting for this for three years. Zayn only stares at him and it becomes evident to Louis that he's had enough bullshitting. “Because yesterday I walked out of the joint wearing my entire wardrobe and you're teaching rich dicks how to play cards.” He pauses. “Because the house always wins. You play long enough, never changing stakes, the house takes you. Unless, when the special hand comes around, you bet big. And then you take the house.”

A smile slowly spreads across Zayn's face. “You've been practicing that speech, haven't you?”

“A little. Did I rush it? It felt like I rushed it.”

Zayn shakes his head. “No, it was good.” The lift doors open and they step on. “I wonder what Simon will say?”

They look at each other and Louis smiles. He knows exactly what Simon's going to say. Good thing he's got a plan.

**

“You're out of your goddamn minds.”

They're having lunch in Simon's backyard. And Louis is having a strong urge to push Zayn into the pool, but maybe killing his right-hand man is a bad idea.

“Are you listening to me?” Simon questions. “You are, both of you, mad. I know more about casino security than any man alive. I invented it, and it cannot be beaten. They got cameras, they got watchers, they got locks, they got timers, they got vaults. They got enough armed personnel to occupy Paris. Okay, bad example.”

“It's never been tried,” Louis offers, sitting forward.

Simon scoffs. “Oh, it's been tried. A few guys even came close. You know the three most successful robberies in Vegas history?” Zayn and Louis both shake their heads. “Number three. The bronze medal. Pencilneck grabs a lockbox at the Sands. He got two steps closer to the door than any living soul before him.” Simon pauses to take a sip of his tea. “Second most successful robbery. The Flamingo in seventy-one. This guy actually smelled fresh oxygen before they got him. 'Course, he was breathing out of a hose the next three weeks, goddamn hippie.” Zayn chuckles, but Simon pays him no mind. “And the closest any man has gotten to robbing a Las Vegas casino. Outside of Ceaser's in eighty-seven. He came, he grabbed, he got conquered.”

He actually knows all this. Zayn does too. Thing is, they have to play this just right to get Simon to agree. And if that means listening to him drone on about things he already knows, so be it.

“But what am I saying?” Simon asks. “You guys are pros – the best. I'm sure you can make it out of a casino. Of course, least we forget, once you're out the front door, you're still in the middle of the fucking desert!” Simon yells the last part.

Zayn looks chastened. “You're right,” he says, turning to Louis he adds, “He's right.”

“Simon, you're right,” Louis agrees. “Our eyes are bigger than our stomachs.” 

“That's exactly it. Pure ego.” Zayn's acting has gotten better.

“Thank you so much for setting us straight. Sorry we bothered you.”

They both rise to walk away, and as predicted Simon stops them. “Look, we all go way back. I owe you from that thing with the guy in the place, and I'll never forget it.”

“It was our pleasure,” Louis says, smiling.

“I'd never been to Belize,” Zayn adds.

“Give Dominic your addresses, I got some remaindered furniture I wanna send you.”

Louis nods, and him and Zayn start walking away to leave. After taking his Ray Bands out of his jacket pocket, he motions for Zayn to slow his speed down just as Simon starts talking again.

“Just out of curiosity, which casinos did you geniuses pick to rob?”

Louis stops. This was the question he was waiting for. He slowly turns to Simon as he answers. “The Bellagio, Mirage, and the M.G.M. Grand.”

Simon's nostrils flare. “Those are Nick Grimshaw's casinos.”

“You know,” Zayn starts, turning to Louis, looking surprised. “He's right.”

Simon waves them back to the table. “You guys...What do you got against Nick Grimshaw?”

“What do you have against him?” Louis deflects. “That's the real question.”

“He torpedoed my casino, muscled me out. Now he's gonna blow it up next month to make way for another fucking eyesore. Don't think I don't see what you're doing.” Simon's eyes narrow as he stares at them.

“What are we doing, Simon?” Zayn asks.

“You gonna steal from Nick Grimshaw, you better goddamn know. This sort of thing used to be civilized. You'd hit a guy, he'd whack back. Done. But Grimshaw....At the end of this he better not know you're involved, not know your names, or think you're dead. Because he will kill you and then he'll go to work on you.” 

“That's why we've got to be very careful,” Louis says, stepping forward. “We have to be precise. We have to be well-funded.”

Simon snorts. “Yeah, you gotta be mad, too. And you're gonna need a crew as mad as you are.” There's a pregnant silence before he adds, “Who do you have in mind?”

Louis sees Zayn smiling. He knows he is too. They've hooked their fish.

**

“Alright. Who's in?” Zayn asks, turning to Louis.

“Frank C. is in.” Louis informs him. “Frank has developed a bad case of bronchitis and is putting in for a transfer to warmer climates.” He turns to Zayn. “What about drivers?”

“I talked to the Malloys yesterday,” Zayn says.

“The Mormon twins? The Americans?”

“They're both in Salt Lake City, six months off the job. I got the sense they're having trouble filling the hours.”

Louis nods. He's not too keen on working with Americans, but the Malloys are good. “Electronics?”

“Liam Payne.” Louis nods. “Payne's been doing freelance surveillance work of late for the F.B.I. Mob Squad in America.”

“How are his nerves?” Louis had only met him once, but it had been enough to leave an impression.

“Okay.” Zayn pauses. “Not so bad you'd notice.” Louis's having a hard time believing that, but he trusts Zayn's judgment. “Next on the list, munitions.”

“Phil Turentine,” Louis offers.

“Dead.”

“No shit. On the job?”

Zayn shakes his head. “Sun cancer.”

“You send flowers?” Louis asks.

“His wife tried to sleep with me.”

Louis pauses for a second before nodding. “Niall?” The three of them had worked a job in Buenos Aires about six years back and they'd both worked with him separately since then. Niall's a good guy and damn good at his job.

Zayn checks his watch. “We may be too late.”

**

Louis's listening to whatever Zayn's got himself into through the microphone implanted in Zayn's watch. It's in case something goes wrong. Zayn had insisted that nothing would. Louis had insisted that they should be prepared. In the end, Louis won.

“Booby traps aren't Mr. Horan's style,” he hears Zayn say. “Isn't that right, Niall?”

“That's right,” he hears Niall's thick accent come through.

“Peck, A.T.F.” Zayn must have flashed a badge, Louis can hear the slight rustling of his jacket. “Let me venture a guess. A simple G4 mainliner, double-coil, backwound, quick fuse with a drag under twenty feet. That's our man. Tell me something else. Have you checked him for booby traps on his person? I mean really checked, not just for weapons.” Zayn trails off and Louis can hear more rustling. Louis needs to apologize to Zayn for insulting his acting skills. “Will you go find Griggs and tell him I need to see him?”

“Who?” comes a voice Louis doesn't recognize. It must be a cop.

“Just go and find him, will you?” Zayn says loudly. His voice drops. “How fast can you put something together with what I passed you?”

“Done. Thirty seconds all right?” Niall asks.

“From when?”

Louis hears something snap and Niall says “Now.”

All Louis hears for a few seconds is rustling around and breathing. 

“Ten seconds?” Zayn inquires.

“Not quite. Is Louis here?” Niall asks.

“He's around the corner and listening in.”

“Hello Louis,” Niall says louder than he needed to, which causes Louis to jump and pull the ear piece out a bit. “Be good working with professionals again.” He pauses. “Okay, go.”

“Everyone down!” Zayn yells. “Get down! There's a bomb in the...”

Louis hears the explosion. He would've without the ear piece, which he removes when he sees a smiling Niall and Zayn jogging towards him.

**

“Perrie?” Louis questions incredulously. “Perrie, your wife?” Zayn nods. “So she can walk on a rope.”

“More than that,” Zayn counters.

Louis raises an eye brow. “So she can juggle. We need a grease man, not an acrobat. Who else is on the list?”

“She is the list,” Zayn says before taking a drink of his beer.

“Who else?”

“That's it.” Zayn gives Louis a look that screams “we aren't debating this”. 

Louis sighs. He knows he can trust Zayn, but _Perrie?_ This could spell disaster. Maybe.

**

“We need Sam,” Louis tells Zayn as he sits down across from him in the booth.

“He won't come,” Zayn says without looking up from his menu. “He swore off the game a year ago.”

“Why?”

“Ulcers.”

“You can ask him.”

Zayn pauses, looks up and sighs. “I can ask, but you're coming with.”

**

They're tired from all the recruiting they've done. Zayn got Sam to agree so they're at a bar celebrating, but all Louis wants to curl up and sleep.

“Ten should do it, don't you think?” Zayn shrugs. “You think me need one more?” Zayn shrugs again. “You think we need one more.” Zayn shrugs. Louis sighs. “Okay. We'll get one more.”

**

“Who do you have in mind, dear Zaynie?” Louis asks as Zayn flops onto the sofa, handing him a beer.

“There's a kid in Manchester. Good pickpocket. Probably good at the rest.”

Louis narrows his eyes. “What makes you so sure?”

“Got a feeling in me gut.”

Louis sighs. “What's his name?”

“Harry Styles.”

“You want me to get him, don't you?” Zayn shrugs. “You're going to send me to get him.” Zayn, yet again, shrugs. “Fine. I'll go get him.”

**

Louis watches as Harry Styles watches his next target. No body else would notice what's going on here. Only a trained eye would. Good thing Louis is a trained eye. Before a few seconds ago he had no idea what Harry Styles looked like. Of course, Louis had noticed him when he walked in. Tall, curly hair pulled back by a headscarf – little curls escaping to frame his face – and a black shirt buttoned only halfway up revealing bits of tattoos. He's attractive as hell. _Of course_ Louis noticed him.

He's conflicted, though. Harry is attractive and Louis can't get involved with him. Louis has two choices. Deal with it or tell Zayn this didn't work out. 

He watches as Harry waits for the right moment, stumbling forward, left hand finding support on the target's shoulder, while the right hand relieves the man of his wallet. 

“Sorry 'bout that,” Harry says. And dear god, is his voice deep.

“No problem,” the man mutters. He resumes his staring at the wall as Harry puts the man's wallet in his jacket pocket, face betraying nothing.

Only Louis could appreciate the artistry that Harry just performed. It was perfect and that's what causes Louis to decide to ignore being attracted to this man.

**

Louis had followed Harry around a bit before making his move. He bumped into him, replacing the stolen wallet with a calling card. Harry hadn't noticed it at the time, but it's only taken him five minutes to enter the pub. He looks around, brows furrowed. His face smooths out when he sees the Gucci wallet on the table in front of Louis.

When Harry walks over he just stands and stares at him. “Hello, Harry,” Louis greets. “Sit down,” he adds, motioning to the chair across the table.

“Who are you?” Harry asks, narrowing his eyes.

“A friend of a friend of a friend of yours told me about you.” That was easier to make out in Louis's head. “Sit down,” he says again.

Harry balks, prideful, but sense finds a way, and he sits.

“Zayn Malik told me about you. Bobby Caldwell told Zayn. Said you were the best pair of hands he's ever seen. Didn't expect to see you working wallets on the street.”

“That wasn't work, that was practice,” Harry offers.

Louis reaches into his jacket and sets the plane ticket on the table. Keeping his hand on it, he says “You're either in or out, right now.”

“What is it?” Harry asks, leaning forward.

“A plane ticket. A job offer,” he answers.

“You're pretty trusting pretty fast.”

“Bobby has every faith in you,” he says. “Which means Zayn does. Which means I do.” He smiles at Harry.

Harry snorts. “Fathers are like that.” Louis eyes widen and his jaw drops. Harry shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “He didn't tell you?” Louis, at a loss for words, shakes his head. “Styles is his real name. Doesn't like using it. Says it sounds like something a pop star would have.”

Louis gathers his composure. “You do this job, he'll be using it.”

“What if I say no?”

“We'll get someone else who won't be quite as good,” Louis informs him. “You can go back to feeling up stockbrokers.”

While Harry considers, Louis motions to the waitress for the bill. When he turns his attention back to Harry, the wallet is still there, but the ticket beneath his hand is gone.

“That's the best lift I've seen you make yet,” Louis says trying to cover how impressed he really is.

“Las Vegas, huh?” Harry inquires, looking up from the ticket.

“America's playground.” Louis tries not to do a victory dance as Harry pockets the ticket, grabs the wallet, stands and walks away. They've got everyone.

**

Louis will never get over how big Simon's mansions are. This is ridiculous. When he voiced that earlier, Zayn had rolled his eyes and said “You had a castle in Scotland before you got arrested”. That was true, but this particular mansion is just outside of _Las Vegas._

He watches as Frank – the only one here – gets up to get himself another drink. The doorbell rings just as he reaches the bar. Simon stands and goes into the foyer. He had given his staff the evening off so “None of them can run off and tell our plans to anyone”.

Louis hears Liam's voice saying “trick or treat” before Simon walks back in.

“You guys get a group rate or something?” he asks, as everyone else crowds in around him.

**

Simon had his staff set up a buffet table along one wall of the lounge. Louis watches Virgil and Turk pile shrimp on their plate, while Sam pockets an orange.

“You make it out to Utah much, Sam?” Turk asks before shoving shrimp in his mouth.

“Not as much as I'd like,” Sam answers.

Louis turns away. He's not in the mood to hear what Turk has to say. He sees Niall mixing a drink for Liam, Perrie and Zayn are curled up on the sofa with each other. He sees Harry in the corner by himself, watching everyone with narrowed eyes. Interesting.

Sighing, Louis pushes himself off the wall he was leaned against and steps into the center of the room. “Everyone, welcome to Las Vegas. Has everyone eaten?” He pauses for everyone to answer. “Good. Everyone sober?” Niall cackles and really that tells him everything. “Close enough,” he mutters to himself. “Most of you know each other already. You probably haven't met Harry Styles before,” He motions to Harry, who's still in the corner. “He's Bobby Caldwell's son.”

He pauses so Harry can exchange nods with everyone. “Okay. Before we start, nobody's on the line here yet. What I'm about to propose to you happens to be highly lucrative and highly dangerous.” No one looks surprised. “If that doesn't sound like your particular brand of vodka, help yourself to as much food as you like and safe journey. No hard feelings.” He pauses to let the group consider. “Otherwise, come with me.”

He turns and walks out of the lounge, into another room. Somehow Zayn has gotten right behind him. He sees him out of the corner of his eye flash a brief look to the others. He turns to see everyone following, except Harry. He had a feeling Harry would be hard to convince. He goes back into the lounge and stands directly in front of him.

“Hi,” Harry says with a shy smile.

“Do you actually live in Manchester full time?”

If Harry is taken aback by the question he doesn't show it. “Yes.”

“You like it there?” 

“Yes.”

“That's wonderful.” Normally, he wouldn't try to convince Harry, but there's something about this kid he likes. Of course, he uses kid lightly. Harry's only two years younger, but that's not important. “Get in the goddamn room with everyone else,” Louis orders, before stalking back in with the others.

**

Everyone is gathered around a tournament-level pool table. Harry had thankfully followed him into the room, but he's staying back from the others. That's fine with Louis. He doesn't need Harry's attractiveness distracting him. Louis had set the table up a few hours ago, with an elaborate miniature of Nick Grimshaw's Las Vegas: three casinos and hotels with the Strip running between them.

“Everyone, the 14000 block of Las Vegas Boulevard. Otherwise known as the Bellagio, the Mirage, the M.G.M. Grand.” As he spoke he motioned to each of their miniature representatives. “Together, they're the three most profitable casinos in Las Vegas.” 

Louis removes the Strip from the model, revealing a complex structure, featuring three tunnels, each leading to a single freight-sized lift shaft which descends into an enormous vault.

“The Bellagio vault,” he states. “Located below the Strip, beneath two hundred feet of solid earth. It safeguards every dime that comes through each of the three casinos above it.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “We're going to rob it.”

Every one – with the exception being Zayn, Simon and, surprisingly, Harry – take a deep breath. Disbelief and awe mixed together.

“Smash-and-grab job, huh?” Harry asks, from his spot behind the group.

“It's a little more complicated than that,” Zayn answers, over his shoulder.

Louis picks up the remote control for the panel of televisions. “Courtesy of Frank Catton, new blackjack dealer at the Bellagio, security tapes from the three casinos.”

The monitors show three montages of black-and-white security tapes, starting with the three casinos' cages, moving into the tunnels, then – as the screens unite in their images – pushing into the lift and eventually the vault. 

“Bad news first,” Louis says, getting their attention again. “This place houses a security system which rivals most nuclear missile silos. First, we have to get within the casino cages.”

“Here,” Zayn says pointing to the model. “Here and here.”

“Which anyone knows takes more than a smile,” Louis says, smiling himself. “Next, through these doors, each of which requires a different six-digit code changed every twelve hours. Past those lies the lift, and this is where it gets tricky.” Someone to his left snorts. He thinks it might have been Niall. “The lift won't move without authorized fingerprint identifications-.”

“Which we can't fake,” Zayn chimes in.

“And vocal confirmations from both the security center within the Bellagio and the vault below-.”

“Which we won't get.”

“Furthermore, the lift shaft is rigged with motion detectors-”.

“Meaning if we manually override the lift, the shaft's exits will lock down automatically and we'll be trapped.”

Louis shoots Zayn a glare. He's supposed to be the one doing the explaining. “Once we've gotten down the shaft, though, then it's a walk in the park. Just three more guards with Uzis and predilections toward not being robbed, and the most elaborate vault door conceived by man. Any questions?”

There's silence for a moment before Perrie speaks up. “Can we tunnel out?”

“No,” Zayn says. “Tunneling is out. There are Richter scales monitoring the ground for one hundred yards in every direction. If a groundhog tried to nest there, they'd know about it. Anyone else?”

There's another brief silence. “You said something about good news?” Liam questions.

Louis smiles. He's happy someone asked. “The Nevada Gaming Commission stipulates: a casino must hold in reserve enough cash to cover every chip at play on its floor. As I mentioned, this vault services each of the three casinos above it. That means, during the week, by law, it must hold anywhere from sixty to seventy million U.S. Dollars in cash and coin. On a weekend, between eighty and ninety million. On a fight night, like the one two weeks from now, the night we're going to rob it, at least a hundred and fifty million. Without breaking a sweat.” He gazes around the room. “Now there are eleven of us. Each with an equal share. You do that math.”

When they figure it out they all whistle.

“That's what I said,” Zayn comments. Louis can tell that they're all stupidly impressed.

“I have a question,” Sam asks, turning to him. “Say we do get in the cage, and through the security doors there, and down the lift we can't move, and past the guards with guns, and into the vault we can't open-.”

“Without being seen by the cameras,” Zayn adds.

Louis sees everyone's astonishment. “Oh, right. Sorry. I forgot to mention that,” he says, sheepishly.

“Say we do all that,” Sam continues. “We're just supposed to walk out of there with a hundred million dollars in cash on us without getting stopped?”

Louis smiles, his broad, sure-of-himself grin. The one Zayn couldn't deny. These guys won't be able to either. “Yes.” Sam looks panic-stricken, popping a Rolaid in his mouth. “Alright. Here's how we'll begin.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “First task: reconnaissance. I want to know everything that's happening in all three casinos. From the rotation of the dealers to the path of every cash cart. I want to know everything about every guard, every watcher, anyone with a security pass. I want to know where they're from, what the nicknames are, how they take their coffee. Most of all, I want you guys to know these casinos. They were built as labyrinths, to keep people in. I want you guys to know the quick routes out.” 

Louis motions for everyone to get started. They all scramble about, running out of the room – except Harry. When he raises an eyebrow, Harry starts talking.

“We're good people, right?” It's not what Louis was expecting and this isn't the best time for Harry to be having a morality crisis. Harry doesn't give him a chance to answer. “Like, I know I've stolen from people before and shit, but, like, am I a good person? Stealing from people is wrong and this sounds like we're going to be conning people, which is also wrong. So, that's a lot of wrongness in one job.”

Louis's silent for a moment, while he contemplates his answer. It's kind of endearing that Harry, while a criminal himself, is questioning this. It says a lot about him – mainly that he's a good person – but Louis does not have time for this. “Harry, I don't know about you, but I only ever steal from people who can afford being stolen from.”

“Besides, Grimshaw will be able to bounce back from this quickly.” Louis fights to glare at Zayn. He doesn't _want_ Nick to come back from this.

Harry seems to relax, though. “Yeah, you're right.” He doesn't say anything before turning and following the others.

“Think that's going to be a problem?” Zayn asks.

Louis shrugs. “Dunno. Hope not.”

“If worse comes to worst, we can introduce Harry to Nick. Probably charm the money right out of Nick's hand.”

Louis forces himself to laugh. The thing is, Harry could probably do it, but something about the idea of Harry interacting with Nick makes him want to vomit and that's a little more worrying than the possibility of something small going wrong and them getting caught. Louis could be potentially fucked – in more ways than one.

**

“Second task,” Louis says. “Power. On the night of the fight, we're gonna throw the switch on sin city. Niall, it's your show.” Niall nods. “Third task, surveillance. Casino security has an eye and ear on everything, so we'll want an eye and ear on them. Payno, that's your job.”

**

He's in Liam's room, studying one of the blueprints he and Zayn had stolen.

“It's not the least accessible system I've seen,” Liam states. “But it's close. I don't suppose they have a closed-circuit feed I could tap into?” When Louis shakes his head, Liam sighs. “Then this is definitely a black bag job. Do they employ an in-house technician?”

Louis turns to Zayn who, behind them, is tampering with Liam's audio-vision setup. “Two. And one of them is lonely.”

**

After dealing with the in-house technician, Louis and Zayn are in Liam's room waiting for him to tap into the security footage. There's a brief blip that would go unnoticed if they weren't looking for it and they see Virgil and Turk come into view, bickering about something.

“Why do they paint the hallways that color?” Louis asks.

Zayn shrugs. “They say taupe is very soothing.”

Louis watches as Liam comes into view on the monitor, but he's standing still, looking down each corridor. “Uh-oh,” Louis mutters.

Thankfully, Liam is able to decipher the right corridor and he disappears. The monitor flips to another camera angle and they see Liam being stopped by a guard. Shit. Him and Zayn lean forward watching intently as the guard hands Liam something and walks off. They both exhale the breathes they were holding.

“Well...” Louis trails off, not knowing what to say.

“Yeah,” Zayn agrees.

“Fourth task,” Louis says. “Construction.”

**

They're at warehouse hauling building materials – Perrie is somehow carrying three times what everyone else is.

“We need to build an exact, working replica of the Bellagio vault,” Louis tells them once everything is inside.

“For practice,” Zayn adds.

“Something like that,” Louis says, waving a hand around.

Everyone fans out and starts getting things together. Louis walks over to Harry and pulls him aside.

“Fifth task: intelligence.” Harry looks confused. “We need those codes, Harry. From the only man who has all three.”

“Grimshaw,” Harry nods.

“Learn to love his shadow.” Louis turns back to the others. “Sixth task: transport-”.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Harry says from behind. “All I get to do is _watch_ him?”

“For now,” Louis says, over his shoulder. “You gotta walk before you crawl.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Reverse that,” he says to Harry, correcting Louis.

He glares at Zayn before turning his attention to the Malloys. “Sixth task: transportation.”

**

Louis's overseeing the construction, reviewing his lists of tasks on his fingers. He thinks he might have missed one.

“Power, surveillance, transportation,” he mutters to himself.

“Anything I can do?” Simon asks, coming to stand next to him.

Louis's eyes flash from Simon to Sam, who's behind him, dressed in his usual frumpy attire. That's what he missed. “Get your wallet.”

**

A tailor is fitting Sam for the finest suit Simon's money can buy. As Sam smooths out a coat sleeve he says “This is nice material.”

“It's Armani, Sam,” Louis informs.

“It's very nice,” Sam says again. He's not fooling anyone. He's scared.

Louis nods to the tailor. “Give us a moment.” The tailor nods back, excusing himself. “Sam, you sure you're ready to do this?”

Sam turns away, and when he faces Louis again his entire aspect has changed. His features are stone, eyes icicles. “If you ever question me again, Louis, you won't wake up the following morning,” he warns.

They exchange a long, fierce glance; Sam's eyes never wavering. “You're ready.” Louis watches through the mirror as Simon gets up to go pay.

“Hello,” Sam says to the mirror. “My name is Lyman Zerga.” Sam pauses for a minute before lowering his voice. “My name is Lyman Zerga.”

Yes, Louis thinks, this is going to be a piece of cake.

**

“My name is Lyman Zerga,” Sam says, beside Louis. He's dressed the part – Armani, hair slicked back, brief mustache on his lip, and dark glasses riding the bridge of his nose. He's been practicing his accent since they got in the limo. It almost sounds Scottish.

Louis pulls out an envelope and hands it to him. “There's a little over twenty grand there, Sam. Try to make it last.”

Sam starts patting down his pockets. “You seen my-.” He cuts himself off when Louis holds up a fresh roll of Rolaids.

The limo pulls to a stop and the door is pulled open by Virgil dressed as a bodyguard. “Mr. Zerga, we're here.”

“Good luck, Lyman,” Louis says.

Sam hesitates before stepping out of the limo. He leans back in to say, “Luck is for losers.”

**

Louis steps into the lobby and quickly spots Zayn and Harry, mindlessly dropping coins into a couple of slot machines. “Okay, tell me about Grimshaw,” he says, as he comes to stand next to them.

“The guy is a machine,” Harry offers, turning to face Louis. “He arrives at the Bellagio every day at two p.m. Same Town car, same driver. Remembers every valet's name on the way in. Not bad for a guy worth three-quarters of a billion.” Louis hums. Nick was always unbelievably good at remembering names. “Offices are upstairs. He works hard, hits the lobby floor at seven. Spends three minutes on the floor with his casino manager.”

“What do they talk about?” Zayn asks.

“All business,” Harry answers. “Grimshaw likes to know what's going on in his casinos. There's rarely an incident he doesn't know about or handle personally. He spends a few minutes glad-handling the high rollers. He's fluent in Spanish, German and Italian, and he's taking Japanese lessons. He's out by seven-thirty, when an assistant hands him a black portfolio. Contents: the day's take and new security codes. Then he heads to the restaurant,” he adds pointing to the restaurant across from them. Louis and Zayn turn to face the entrance. “Wait another ten seconds.” 

Sure enough, in ten seconds Nick Grimshaw turns the corner, carrying his black portfolio. Louis's fists clench as a wave of anger rushes over him. He quickly unclenches his fists when he sees Zayn side eying him.

“As I said,” Harry starts, “a machine.”

“And that portfolio contains the codes to all the cage doors?” Louis asks.

“Two minutes after they've been changed, he's got them in hand,” Harry answers. After a pause, “I'll tell you: you guys picked a hell of a target. He is as smart and as ruthless as they come. The last guy caught cheating here, Grimshaw not only sent him up for ten years, he got the bank to seize the guy's home and bankrupted-.”

“His brother-in-law's tractor dealership, I heard,” Zayn supplies.

Harry nods. “He doesn't just go after your knees, he goes after your livelihood. And everyone-you-ever-met's livelihood.”

“You scared?” Louis asks Harry.

“You suicidal?” Harry counters, raising an eyebrow, a faint smile visible.

“Only in the morning,” Louis responds, flashing Harry his biggest smile. Harry smiles wider, revealing a dimple. Holy hell. How did he not know Harry had a dimple? “Now what?”

“Well, yesterday I would've said his boyfriend would show up,” Harry pauses for a brief second, “but they broke up yesterday.”

“Why?” Zayn inquires.

“According to what I was able to overhear,” Harry starts, “Grimshaw is married to his work. Didn't pay the boyfriend enough attention.” Harry pauses again. “Think we can use that somehow?”

Zayn narrows his eyes and purses his lips. This is Zayn's thinking face. Louis already might have a plan, but it's too early to know if they need it. He decides to keep quiet for now. “Maybe. Doesn't matter.” He turns to walk out. “Meet you at the warehouse.”

**

What Louis is doing is reckless, but he's never been one for not being reckless. He had told Zayn and Harry he'd meet them later, that he wanted to check up with Frank. It was a blatant lie. And he knows Zayn could tell. That doesn't matter, though. All that matters is Nick Grimshaw, who is sitting at a table reading the paper.

Louis walks up and stands by the table. Nick never looks up. “Oh, Mr. Grimshaw,” Louis starts. “I have to complement you on your beautiful establishment.”

“Thank you,” Nick says, shortly.

“Yes, it's much better than prison, thank you.”

At that Nick looks up, surprise flashes across his face quickly, before settling into indifference. “Out of prison so soon, Tommo?” Nick folds the paper and motions for Louis to sit across from him. Louis does. “I thought they gave you life.”

“Got out on parole,” Louis says, grabbing Nick's tea and taking a sip. “Told them my wife left me.”

Nick arches an eyebrow. “I didn't realize I was the wife in the relationship.” Louis snorts. “Forgive me, for I've never been arrested, but isn't skipping the country against your parole?”

“Details,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. It's taking every bit of willpower he has not to reach across the table and deck Nick. “Gotta say, I was shocked when I heard you owned these casinos.”

“You're less hostile than normal,”Nick says, ignoring Louis and leaning forward. “Are you feeling poorly?”

“Feel fine.” He stands. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be that isn't with you.”

“Will I be seeing you around?” Bingo.

“Dunno,” he says over his shoulder. “Maybe.”

Good, Nick knows he's here. All part of the plan.

**

Liam's doing something with the cameras and the fake vault that's almost complete. Frank is staple-gunning the floorboard into place and across the garage, Virgil and Turk are working on their newly purchased vans. Louis's not sure what they're doing exactly. It's something that requires blow torches. And Louis's doing his job. It's not his fault if his job is to stand watch over the team and not actually do anything himself.

Louis checks his watch. Just as he looks back up the false top to the cash cart in front of him flies open, revealing Perrie within – her arms, legs and torso folded into the three-by-four foot space. Perrie rips an air hose from her mouth and inhales deeply.

“29:47,” Louis states. “Everything okay in there?” Perrie narrows her eyes in response. “Okay, fine. Just know that you agreed to be our grease woman.”

“Grease man,” Perrie corrects, climbing out of the cart. “Grease man, not woman. I'm just as capable of doing this job as a man. You don't have to change the fucking pronoun.” She doesn't give Louis a chance to respond before turning away and stalking off.

“But, what doesn't beat the shit out of being a circus performer?” comes Zayn's voice. Louis turns to answer, but Zayn looks serious before turning and walking out of the warehouse.

**

When Louis walks out the door, he sees Zayn leaning against his car, face lit up in the dark from his cigarette. “What is it?” he asks as he approaches.

Zayn blows smoke out slowly before answering. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?” When Zayn turns to look at him, he adds “If you're not honest with me I will walk away from this job.”

Louis sighs. He was going to tell Zayn. He had planned on it from the beginning, but he just never found the right time. Now's as good a time as any. “You know Nick and I used to work together.” It wasn't a question, but Zayn nods anyway. “You said you needed a reason. Well, this is mine.” He takes a step closer. “When we started in this business, we had three rules. We weren't going to hurt anyone. We weren't going to steal from anyone that didn't have it coming. And we were going to play the game like we had nothing to lose.” He pauses to take a breath. “I lost something. That's why I'm here.”

Zayn throws his cigarette to the ground, smashing it out with his boot. “What'd you lose, Lou?”

“You know bloody damn well what I lost, Zayn,” he snaps. Zayn doesn't react. “Look,” he says, calmer. “Nick betrayed me. He turned me in.” Again, Zayn doesn't react. “I spent almost three years in prison because of him. I lost my freedom. My money. Everything. And it's because of Nick fucking Grimshaw.”

Zayn's quiet, staring up at the sky. Louis moves to lean against the car next to him. “I knew all that,” he says, looking over at Louis. “I wouldn't be a good best mate if I didn't. At first I just thought your recklessness caught up with you. Figured differently when Grimshaw popped off to Vegas. Did some digging. I just wanted you to tell me. You can trust me.”

“I know,” Louis says.

“Why'd he do it?” Zayn asks. “I mean, turn you in. Why?”

Louis shakes his head. “No idea. Just a prick, I suppose.”

Zayn hums in agreement. After a brief silence Zayn asks, “Just out of curiosity, did you two ever...?”

He trails off and Louis can't help the laugh that escapes him. “No. Never have liked him much anyway.”

“Then why work with him?”

“Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” They had never liked each other, but they had worked well together. “So, you think we can use the break-up thing?”

“Dunno,” Zayn shrugs. “Harry said Grimshaw didn't seemed too fussed about it. You know him better. Do you?”

“Oh, he's fussed. Believe me. He just does a good job of hiding it.” Louis pushes himself off the car. “I do have a plan. Not sure I want to go for it yet.”

“What is it?”

“How's Harry's acting?”

“No.”

“What?”

Zayn shakes his head. “No, Lou. I know what you're thinking.”

“It'd work.”

“You don't even know if-,” Zayn starts, but cuts himself off when Louis holds a hand up.

“Zayn, we walked in on him painting his nails, last night. 'Sides it doesn't really matter. It's acting.” Zayn's brow furrows. “I didn't say I was for sure doing it.”

“You're considering it,” he points out. “That's enough.”

“Maybe.” Louis turns to see Zayn watching him with narrowed eyes. “How much does Harry know about art?”

“You want him to pose as an art dealer?”

“Curator,” Louis corrects. Zayn raises an eyebrow, causing Louis to hold his hands up. “Look, I know art is your thing, but-.”

“That's not my problem,” Zayn states. 

“You don't think Harry could do it?”

“No,” Zayn shakes his head. “Harry's a natural flirt it seems, but I don't like the idea.”

Louis'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed Harry's tendency to flirt with everyone. “Harry flirting is a good thing. Wouldn't be as much acting.”

“You really are considering this, aren't you?” Louis nods. “You made up your mind, didn't you?” Louis nods again. “You're going to have him do it?” Louis nods. “I suppose you want me to tell him?”

Louis starts to nod again, but quickly realizes the mistake. “No. Don't. Not yet anyway. I want to wait another day or two.”

Zayn doesn't question it, nodding as he walks back to the warehouse.

**

They've just finished a run through of Perrie in the vault, when the door to the warehouse slams open. Louis – along with everyone else – spins around to see Niall standing in the door, covered head-to-toe in sewage.

“We're in deep shit,” Niall says, accent angry and thick. Harry walks over, handing him a towel – how the hell was he so fast at that? “The damn demo crew didn't use a coaxial lynch to back the mainline! Onioned the mainframe couplet!” 

“You understand any of this?” Louis hears Simon whisper.

“I'll explain later,” Liam says back.

“Blew the backup grid one by one!” Niall doesn't seem to care that no body understands what he's saying. “Like dominoes!”

“Niall.” Louis only understands a bit of this himself. “What happened?”

Niall takes a deep breath, calming himself. “They did exactly what I planned to do. Only they did it by accident. Now they know their weakness. And they're fixing it.” Niall wipes his face off with the towel. 

“So?”

“So unless we decide to do this job in Reno, we're screwed.”

Louis stands up and starts pacing. He's come too far to give up now. “We could...” he hears Zayn say.

Continuing his pacing, Louis asks, “By tomorrow?”

“We could use a pinch,” Niall answers.

Louis stops pacing. “What is a pinch?”

“A pinch is the equivalent of a cardiac arrest for any broad-band electrical circuitry,” Niall answers. “Or better yet: A pinch is a bomb... but without the bomb. Every time a nuclear weapon detonates, it unleashes an electromagnetic pulse which shuts down any power source within its vicinity. That tends not to matter in most cases because the nuclear weapon destroys everything you might need power for anyway. Now a pinch creates a similar electromagnetic pulse, but without the headache of mass destruction and death. So instead of Hiroshima, you get the Seventeenth Century.”

“For how long?” Zayn asks.

“About ten seconds.”

Stepping forward, Louis asks “Could a pinch take out the power of an entire city? Like, I don't know...”

“Las Vegas?” Niall finishes. “But there's only one pinch in the world big enough to handle it.”

Zayn and Louis trade a look. “Where?” They ask at the same time.

After a beat, Niall answers, balefully, “Pasadena.”

**

Louis is squeezed in the back of a van with Niall, Perrie and Harry. Niall and Perrie are preparing equipment – ropes and hooks for Perrie and a blowtorch and a drill for Niall.

“You two ready?” he asks Niall and Perrie. They both nod and start get out of the van. Louis starts to follow until he notices Harry coming out too. “What are you doing?”

“Coming with you,” Harry responds, hopefully. Louis smiles and shakes his head. Harry's hopefulness quickly vanishes and is replaced by fury. “But-.”

Louis cuts him off by slamming the van door in his face. He knows Harry wants to see more action, but this is not the kind of thing Louis wants him doing.

**

Louis gets back in the van after Niall, Perrie following him. When the door is shut, he says “We got it. Let's go,” to Turk and Virgil.

They barely get out of the parking lot before “Wait a minute,” Louis says. Turk immediately slams on the breaks. “Where's Harry?”

Everyone glances at one another. He's not here. Louis will fucking kill him. Before he has a chance to shout orders, sirens, alarms and lights come to life. Oh fucking hell. Louis spins around to look out the back windows and starts scanning the compound. “There he is,” he mutters.

Louis sees Harry scrambling up the beveled-glass, stairwell leading to the lab. He's a flight ahead of a duo of guards. They disappear and Louis turns his attention to the other side of the building. There are two more guards arriving on the roof and moving toward the staircase. Harry is trapped. 

“One of us should help him,” Virgil says.

“Then there'll be two of us who need saving,” Niall says. It's exactly what Louis was thinking.

“He knows where to find us,” Louis answers. If Harry is any good, he'll find his way out. He's not always going to have someone to get him out of his problems. Louis turns his attention back to the rooftop to see both sets of guards and no Harry.

“Where'd he go?” Turk asks.

Just then there's an explosion in a second-story window as a desk chair goes flying through it. Harry follows it quickly, leaping onto a steel-mesh overhang running alongside the building.

“Alright, back it up, back it up!” Louis orders.

Turk shifts the van into reverse. Louis is still watching Harry run along the overhand. He jumps down onto the top of the van as they reverse to the building. Louis turns to see Harry roll down onto the windshield. Louis opens the back doors as Virgil signals for Harry to get back there. Harry appears hanging off the top of the van and Louis and Perrie pull him in. Turk hits the gas for a quick get away, but it's before Louis has a chance to shut the door, so it slams shut on it's own, catching Perrie's hand. She lets out a loud cry. Fuck. Zayn's going to kill him for letting Perrie get hurt. It's fucking Harry's fault.

Louis shuts the other door and whips around. He glances briefly at Niall tending to Perrie, then turns his attention to a slightly out of breath Harry.

“I say stay in the van, you stay in the van, got it?” He asks. “'Cause you lose focus for one second in the game someone gets hurt.”

“I got it,” Harry answers, glaring.

They continue to glare daggers at each other. Louis doesn't think Harry knew how dangerous that was. Or did he? Was he trying to prove a point.

**

Louis and Harry enter the lobby of the Bellagio and Zayn quickly falls into step with them. He exchanges a smile with Louis, but ignores Harry who still looks chastised from earlier. Good.

Once in the lift, Zayn turns to look at them. “You lads have a nice trip?” he asks, smiling like he knows. He looks between them a couple of times and before Louis has a chance to explain the doors open at the Mirador Suite, revealing a panic-stricken Liam.

“We have a problem,” he says, ushering them in the room.

**

“You've been red-flagged,” he says as Louis looks at a picture of his own mug-shot. “It means the moment you step on the casino floor, they'll be watching you. Like hawks. Hawks with video cameras.”

Louis nods. “This is a problem.”

Zayn comes to stand in front of him. “Any idea how this happened?”

Before Louis can answer, Harry is stepping away from the corner. “I do,” he says. “You met up with Grimshaw yesterday after you thought Zayn and I left.” When Louis gives Harry a bemused look – because what – Harry adds, “I was tailing you.”

Louis stands quickly and growls. “Who told you to do that?”

“I did,” Zayn says, stepping between them. “I wanted to know if you were going to do something stupid. You did.”

That certainly explains why Zayn confronted him last night. “That doesn't give you the right to have me tailed.”

Zayn cocks an eyebrow. “Doesn't it?” Louis just glares. The bastard. Zayn's face smooths out. “I'm sorry, but I had to do it.” No he didn't. “You're out Louis.”

“He's out?” Harry questions, alarm evident on his face.

“It's that or we shut down right now,” Zayn says over his shoulder. “His involvement puts us all at risk.”

Louis is fucking furious. “That isn't your call.”

Zayn turns his head back to face him. “You made it my call when you met with Grimshaw.”

They continue to glare at each other. “If Louis's out, who takes his place?” Liam asks.

Both their glares subside. Zayn gives him a knowing look. “This was part of my plan,” Louis says. “Grimshaw knows I'm here and he's going to be waiting for me to make a move. If all his time is concentrated on me, he won't know to look for you all. And with most of his attention on me, someone else can get close to him.”

Zayn's smirking now and Louis is the only one that can see it. He's caught on to what he's doing. Good.

“Who's that going to be?” Liam asks.

“Harry,” him and Zayn both say.

Zayn turn to face Harry. “You up for it?”

Harry nods, a mixture of terror and eagerness.

“I'll find you later,” Louis tells him. “After I get the details sorted.”

Zayn walks over to Liam. “Find everyone else. Let them know the change in plan.” Liam nods and walks out and Zayn dismisses Harry. When they're the only ones left in the room Zayn turns to him. “You were being reckless.”

Louis lets himself fall into the chair. “I planned my recklessness this time.”

Zayn laughs loudly, surprising himself. “Yeah, whatever. You taking care of Harry?”

“Yes.”

Zayn sighs, shaking his head. “I hope this isn't a mistake.”

So do I, Louis wants to say. He doesn't, though. No good having doubts and voicing them now.

**

Louis walks into Simon's kitchen to see Harry cooking. He cooks? Kill him. “You got time?” he asks, sitting down at the table.

Harry doesn't say anything until after he's done cooking and sits at the table. “Got time now,” he says with a smirk.

Louis resists the urge to comment about taking his time. “How much do you know about art?”

Harry's brow furrows. “Enough. If I don't know something I can bullshit my way through it.” After a pause, “Why?”

“Because Mr. Burton, you are the Bellagio's replacement curator.”

“What happened to the old curator?” Harry asks after swallowing his bite of chicken.

“Paid her off. Doesn't matter,” Louis says waving a hand. “You've got a meeting with Grimshaw in the morning. Now, as of tomorrow we have a week. That's a week for you to get close to him.”

“What do you mean?”

How does Louis approach this? It's got to be delicate. “Look, I don't know what your sexual preferences are or how comf-.”

“You want me to pretend to be interested in him?” Harry asks, setting his fork down.

Louis nods. “That was my plan, yes.” After a second he adds, “If you aren't comfortable with it...”

He trails off when Harry starts shaking his head. “No. I'm fine with it.” 

He says it in a way that makes Louis ask “So, you're gay?”

Harry chuckles. “Don't really like labels.” Fuck everything. “Did you really not know?” Louis shakes his head.”I've been trying to get your attention the whole time we've been here,” Harry adds, ducking his head. Louis can tell that he's blushing. And that's something he doesn't really want to deal with.

“Ah,” Louis says. “Is that why...?”

“Yes.”

“That was stupid,” Louis reprimands.

“Yeah,” Harry says, lifting his head back up, still a twinge of red on his cheeks. “So, pretend to be interested?”

“Yes. Do your best to get him to invite you to the fight next week. Shouldn't be hard for you.” Louis added the last part in a quieter voice.

“I can do that,” Harry says, smiling. He seems calm about this. That's good. Can't have him panicking. 

They fall into a comfortable silence an Louis takes the time to admire Harry as he eats. Harry said he's been trying to get his attention. That's interesting and something that Louis didn't need to know. He's been drawn to Harry since they met in Manchester. Louis even had a dream the other night about his and Harry's kids. It's a bit ridiculous and even if they both felt the same way about each other it wouldn't be wise to get involved. Not when they're both criminals.

He's startled out of his thoughts. “What's your history with Grimshaw? Or am I not allowed to ask?”

Louis could tell him to fuck off, he could lie or he could tell the truth. They're all equally appealing to him, but he settles on the truth. When he's done telling the story, Harry – who had been staring intently the whole time – stands up and walks over to Louis. He leans down and envelops him into a hug. Harry smells nice.

“Grimshaw's a prick,” Harry says when he releases Louis. “I need to go brush up on my art,” he says, walking out of the room.

What the hell just happened?

**

Harry's dressed in a grey, conservative suit – a far cry better than the ripped skinny jeans, band t-shirt, and headscarf Louis met in Manchester. Zayn's circling him, inspecting, as Louis watches from the sofa.

“Where you gonna put your hands?” Zayn asks. Harry clasps them behind his back. “No,” Zayn says shaking his head. Harry puts his hands in his pockets. “Not the pockets, either. And don't touch your tie. Look at me.”

Zayn's a demanding shit when he wants to be. Harry stands, slouching, looking at Zayn. “That how you're gonna stand?” Harry shifts his balance, still slouching. “Wrong again. I ask you a question, you have to think of the answer, where do you look?” Harry looks down. “Death.” Zayn shoots a glare over at Louis when he snickers. Turning back to Harry, “You look down, they know you're lying and they know you don't know the truth. Don't use three words when one will do, don't shift your eyes, look always at you mark, but don't stare, be specific, be memorable, funny make him laugh, he's gotta like you from the first moment, and for God's sake whatever you do, don't under any circumstances-.”

Zayn's cut off by Liam sticking his head through the door. “Zayn can you come here a sec?”

“Sure thing.” As he walks toward the door he adds, “I'll be right back. Don't move.”

When Zayn leaves, Louis stands and goes to stand in front of Harry. He looks bewildered. He should be. That's a lot to remember in fifteen minutes. “Don't worry about him. He takes this too seriously.” Harry's lips quirk up at the corners. “Seriously, though, just don't panic. You'll be fine.”

Harry nods, opening his mouth to speak, but Zayn comes back. “Alright, let's go. No time to dawdle. Remember to turn on the mic, Harry. That's very important.”

Zayn steps back out. “He usually like this?” Harry asks.

“For as long as I've known him, Curly.” Curly? What?

“Guess I should get going,” Harry says, before walking toward the door.

“Harry,” he stops and turns back to Louis. “You'll do a good a job. Wouldn't have picked you if you wouldn't.”

Harry doesn't say anything, just smiles before turning and walking out.

**

Louis watches as Harry comes into view on the monitor – looking calmer than he had thirty minutes earlier. He's in the Bellagio Art Gallery with a seller, the seller's assistant – Aide-De-Camp Zayn had corrected him – and a staff photographer. “How much longer until we get the audio from Harry?”he asks Liam.

When Liam opens his mouth to answer, they hear Harry's voice. “Radiant is the word. Absolutely radiant.”

“I was going to say as soon as Harry hits the button,” Liam says, coming to sit beside Louis.

Louis turns his attention back to the monitor. Harry is standing in front of a painting hung on the wall. It doesn't look radiant to Louis. He wonders if Harry is acting or if he really likes the painting. 

“That's Picasso's _Woman with Guitar_ ,” Zayn says, looking at the monitor.

“Does Harry know that?” Louis asks.

“I'd say he does. It is radiant,” Zayn supplies. “Plus, he was up all night studying.”

No body has a chance to say anything else before Harry starts talking again. “He painted it in the summer of 1912, after the break-up with Fernade Olivier.”

“She must of put him through hell,” the seller says.

Harry continues admiring the painting. “You can see the conflict. He makes her both erotic and grotesque.” How the hell is he getting that from a painting? “He's hopelessly drawn to her, and yet she drives him crazy.” Louis kind of understands how Picasso felt, especially after hearing Harry speak about the painting so passionately.

“Mr. Santaniello has an early flight,” the Aide-de-Camp says, checking his watch. “Do you think Mr. Grimshaw will be late?”

Louis thinks he hears a door open. He watches Harry turn around just as Nick walks into frame. “Am I late?” Nick asks.

“Not at all, Mr. Grimshaw,” Harry says, stepping forward. “I'm Luke Burton, your new curator.” Harry sticks his hand out.

Nick takes it and holds on a little longer than Louis likes. “Remind me again what happened to Tess?”

“Had some trouble with her ex-husband and went to Italy,” Harry answers. Without missing a beat Harry adds, “Allow me to introduce to you Mr. Jean Santaniello.” Harry gestures to the man, who steps forward and shakes Nick hand.

“Mr. Sataniello,” Nick starts. “I apologize if I kept you. I had to iron out a few issues with my fight promoter. I gave him an unlimited budget, and he exceeded it.”

Zayn snorts beside Louis. 

“I understand it's going to be a hell of a fight,” Mr. Santaniello responds.

“We hope.”

Harry grabs Nick's arm – what the hell? People don't just do that – and angles him toward the painting. “Here it is.”

“Magnificent!” He exclaims. “I've been following her for fifteen years now. At least I've made her a home.” He turns to Harry. “All the arrangements and so forth...”

“Done,” Mr. Sataniello says. “All yours.”

“Not mine,” Nick corrects. “She belongs to everyone who comes into my hotel.” Louis snorts this time. “Isn't that right, Mr. Burton?”

“Yes, Mr. Grimshaw.”

“She's lovely, isn't she?” Nick turns to Mr. Sataniello. “I can't be the only one who was after her.”

“The only one who met my price.”

“Ah, but this...You cant put a price on beauty.” Louis didn't miss the way Nick turned to look at Harry as he spoke. This is easier than he thought it would be. “But I shouldn't philosophize. I own casinos, after all.”

“Can we get a quick shot?” The Aide-de-Camp asks. “Mr. Sataniello has a plane to catch.”

“Of course,” Nick says, getting into position.

Harry moves away quickly and the picture is taken. Harry disappears as he walks everyone out of the room. Nick continues to stare at the painting. 

“Alright, Harry. Work your magic,” he mutters, watching as Harry comes back into the frame to stand beside Nick.

“You like it?”

“Do you?”

“It's radiant,” Harry responds.

“Good.” If Louis had a fast forward button he'd be using it right now. “How much experience do you have?”

“Five years at the British Museum. Another two in Paris for a private collector.” Zayn's speech this morning is really paying off. Harry is doing brilliantly. Louis's going to take the credit, of course.

“I knew that, of course. I looked at your file this morning,” Nick explains. “However, it didn't tell me why you left Paris.”

“I like Las Vegas.”

They fall into silence. Why can't he skip past all this?

“I got some bad news this morning,” Nick says. “Mike Tyson will be wearing red on Saturday night. Red trunks with a white stripe.” What the fuck?

“Oh?”

“I had been planning on wearing a red tie,” Nick offers as an explanation. “And if the television cameras pick me up in the front row...”

“I see.” Louis wonders if Harry really does.

“He's a charming man,” Nick continues, “but I'm afraid it will seem like I'm using the tie to support him.”

“Why not a black tie?”

“I thought of that, but I'm not sure I like black.”

“Have you thought of not wearing a tie?” Harry asks, turning to face Nick. “No tie and the first few buttons of your button-up undone? You could certainly pull that off.”

Louis wants to puke.

**

“You wanted to see me?” Niall asks, appearing in the doorway.

“Yeah, come in. Sit.” Louis motions to the chair across from him and Zayn. 

“How'd Harry do?” he asks, lowering himself into the chair.

“They're having lunch as we speak,” Zayn says.

“It's sickening,” Louis adds.

“Grimshaw seems to be quite smitten already.”

“Good job, Harry,” Niall says, fist pumping. 

Louis rolls his eyes. “You did some undercover work before, right?”

Niall looks slightly surprised. “Some, when I pulled that job in Verona.”

Louis nods. “How's you American accent.”

A crease forms on Niall's forehead. “It's alright. Shouldn't Zayn do the undercover stuff? He's got more experience,” Niall says in an almost perfect American accent.

“My accent sucks,” Zayn says, visibly pouting. He wasn't happy when Louis suggested Niall for this job.

“Plus, Nick might recognize him.”

“It was five years ago!” Zayn protests. 

Louis ignores him. “You in?”

“Fuck yes.”

Excellent.

**

“How'd it go?” Zayn asks, as Harry walks through the door of the suite. He doesn't answer. “Harry?”

Again Harry doesn't answer, opting to let himself fall back into the armchair, an arm coming up to cover his face.

“Uh, Harry?” Louis asks, standing up and walking towards him. “How'd it go?”

Without moving his arm, Harry answers. “I don't have to sleep with him, do I?”

Louis stops walking. “What?” Because...what? Louis glances over at Zayn, whose mouth is hanging open in shock.

“How far do I have to take this?” He finally removes his arm, sitting up. “He really likes me. He wants to have dinner tomorrow. He was very suggestive.” He's doing a good job hiding his emotions, but Louis can see apprehension swimming in he eyes. They're very pretty eyes. 

“Of course you don't have to sleep with him,” Louis says, lowering his voice as a couple walk past them.

“But what if-.”

“We'll deal with that later.” That doesn't seem to be good enough for Harry. “Look, Nick is a prick, but if you tell him no he'll respect that. He's not going to kick you out because of it. Explain that you don't want to because you've only just met. He'll understand.”

Harry visibly relaxes. “Yeah, alright.” After a minute he speaks again. “I know what Nick did to you, and like, I don't mind stealing from him, but I feel a bit guilty because I'm playing with his emotions.” That would be a problem for Harry. This is the same guy who apologized after he accidentally hit a squirrel in the head with the peanut he was trying feed it.

“Look, Harry,” Louis starts, “I know there's a difference there and honestly – after what he did to me I still kind of feel bad for that – but it has to be done.”

“And it's not like you have to tell him you love him,” Zayn adds.

“Plus, you won't actually be around that long, so any attachment to you he gets won't be that bad.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I suppose. Not to mention, when we take his money he'll be more focused on that than me.”

“That's very true.”

Before either of them can say anything else, the door is opening and Perrie comes in. She walks up to Zayn, who wraps an arm around her waist, and presses a quick kiss to his mouth, before turning an glaring at Harry.

Narrowing her eyes and pointing a finger. “I hope you're happy,” she spits out. Harry looks as confused as Louis feels. “My hand is broken because of you.” Louis's going to interrupt and ask what she's talking about, but she continues on. “If you'd just stayed in the fucking van like you were supposed to.” Ah, yes. The van door. “Do you have any idea how hard this is making my job!?” Harry opens his mouth to answer, but Perrie cuts him off. “Of course you don't! You've never done anything like this before! And I-.”

She cuts herself off when Zayn squeezes her. “Babe, calm down.” Perrie whips her head around, looking like she's about to lash out at Zayn. “Seriously, it wasn't Harry's fault. And the hand isn't going to affect you that much.” When Perrie starts to protest Zayn cuts her off. “Remember what you did in Berlin with a broke ankle?” he asks, looking way too pleased. Louis does not want to know.

Perrie's face smooths out. “You're right. I'm good.” She turns back to Harry. “Sorry, I yelled at you. Wasn't your fault.” She pecks Zayn on the check and walks out.

Louis turns to Harry who looks as if he was whipped around by a bungee cord. When their eyes meet Harry slowly asks, “What the hell just happened?”

Louis turns to Zayn for an answer because he's just as lost as Harry. Zayn shrugs, saying “She's a weird one,” before turning and following her out.

**

Louis doesn't know what he's doing. Fucking up, Zayn would say if he was here. Good thing he's not. And, honestly, he doesn't even understand why he's here. It's just, there's two days left until the fight and Nick hasn't asked Harry to go to the fight with him. And that's something that needs to happen. But Louis isn't entirely sure he wants it to. He just keeps thinking about the conversation he had with Harry about sleeping with Nick and Nick being suggestive.

He knows he's being stupid and maybe a bit jealous. And it's not like Harry would actually sleep with him, but just the thought of Nick touching Harry makes Louis's skin crawl. And another thing is, he doesn't have a claim over Harry in any way.

He knew from that first moment in Manchester that he was going to have a hard time not allowing a physical relationship with Harry. Except, now he maybe wants more. He won't say he's in love, but he definitely likes Harry. Nothing can happen, though. At least not when they are who they are.

Louis is startled out of his thoughts by Nick and Harry entering the lobby, chatting away. Louis lets them pass where he's hiding by the fire before standing and walking behind them.

“Nick.” He and Harry turn around - Harry blanching for a brief second before recomposing himself. Maybe he should have told Harry about this. Although, he didn't actually have time considering he didn't know he was planning this until about twenty minutes ago.

“Well, well,” Nick starts. “The queen has returned.”

Louis sneers. “There is only one queen here, Grimshaw.”

Nick laughs. “I'll take that.” Harry clears his throat and Nick turns to face him, realization flooding his face. “Oh, yes. Introductions. Luke this is Louis Tomlinson.” Turning back to Louis, “This is Luke Burton, our new curator here.” Nick says it with a stupid smile on his face that Louis wants to smack off. He almost does, until he realizes Harry is sticking out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Luke,” he says, grabbing his hand.

“Likewise,” Harry says, squeezing Louis's hand a bit harder than he should have and glaring slightly. Turning to Nick, face smoothed out, Harry asks, “How do you two know each other?”

“Old friends from home,” Nick answers.

“Very old,” Louis adds. 

“Did you want something, Tomlinson?”

“Oh, yes,” he says, clapping his hands. “I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving in a couple of days.”

Nick raises an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Yes,” he says quickly, then turning to Harry “You his date for the fight?”

Harry splutters. “I – um, no – well-.” Either Harry is really good at acting or he's actually surprised that he mentioned it.

“Well, actually,” Nick says, turning to face Harry, “I was planning on asking you.”

Harry recovers enough to say “Really?”. Face slowly lighting up.

“Only if you want, love.”

“Of course,” Harry says, full on beaming now. Fucker. “I'd love to,” he adds, giving Louis a look that he can't make out. What the fuck is that?

“Excellent!”

“Ah, would you look at the time.” Louis stops Nick from going further, looking at his wrist only to see that he isn't wearing his watch. Oh well, just go with it. “I really must be going.” To Nick, “Nice catching up.” To Harry, “Nice meeting you.” He nods his head and walks off.

**

“What the hell was that?” Harry demands storming into the room, causing Liam to drop the papers he was holding and scurrying out.

“What was what, Harold?” Louis inquires, blinking slowly.

“You know perfectly well what,” Harry growls, coming to stop directly in front of him. “Did you really not think I could do my job?”

Louis blinks, quickly this time. “Do what?”

“You just had to come in and do it yourself, didn't you?”

Well, if this is how Harry is going to be. “We needed him to ask you and he hadn't yet.”

“Did you not hear him?” Harry yells. “He said he was planning on it! Why in the hell do you not trust me to do the job?” Harry seems more hurt than anything. That's not what Louis wanted.

“That's not what it was, Harry.”

“Then what was it?”

“I-,” he cuts himself. He doesn't want to tell Harry the truth. It's embarrassing. “Well, what about you?” he spits out.

Harry's nostrils flare, brow furrowing. “What about me?”

Shit. Harry has him backed against the wall. Literally and figuratively. “What was all that “I'd love to” shit?” Oops.

Harry looks taken aback for a fraction of a second. “It's called acting,” he says, quieter than he's been. Louis's become aware of how close they're bodies are. Their chests are almost touching. “Did that bother you?” he asks, arching his eyebrow.

Louis snorts. “Didn't have to be so enthusiastic about it,” he mutters.

Harry's face softens. “Are you jealous?” Harry leans his head forward as he asks and Louis can feel his breath on his mouth. Smells like peppermint.

He wishes he didn't know what was about to happen. It'd be a lot easier to stop if he didn't. “Maybe,” he whispers, looking up to see Harry staring at his lips. 

“Doesn't mean anything, Lou,” he says, leaning closer so that their noses are brushing. “It's just acting.”

“Are you going to kiss me?” In answer, Harry leans in and kisses him. It's soft and slow, which doesn't really match the mood, and Louis's still for a moment. He forces himself to ignore all the warning bells in his head and starts kissing Harry back, bringing a hand up to curl around his neck. Harry pushes one of his legs between Louis's and deepens the kiss, pushing Louis further into the wall. This is probably the best kiss Louis has ever experienced.

“Was wondering how long this would take you two,” comes in Irish voice from the doorway.

They break apart. Harry's eyes are wide and he looks panicked. After a second, he visibly calms. He mutters a “Not sorry”, smirking, before slowly leaving the room.

When he's gone, Louis grabs a throw pillow off the sofa and throws it at Niall's head. Niall's only response is to laugh as he walks out. Louis can hear him laughing all the way down the hall, leaving him to panic because he's just kissed Harry.

**

“So, you and Harry?” Louis lifts his head out of his hands to see Zayn plopping down on the sofa across from him. “Niall told me,” he says when Louis arches an eyebrow. “Lost money to him, actually.”

“You bet money on me and Harry?” He needs better friends.

Zayn smirks. “Yeah.” After a beat, “Gotta say, thought I'd win that bet.”

“What was it exactly?”

“Well, Niall said you'd have no self control and pounce on it – or should I say him – as soon as you got the chance.” He pauses to shoot Louis a remorseful look. “I said you'd have enough to get us through the thing without pouncing. Obviously, I was wrong.”

“I don't pounce,” he mutters, allowing himself to sink back into the chair.

“Are you in love with him?”It's not out of the blue, but the question still surprises Louis. He's speechless and that _never_ happens. Zayn asks again. “Louis, are you in love with him?”

He guesses now is as good a time as any to be truthful. “No, but I could be. Maybe. In the future.”

“What's the problem then?”

Louis sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Zayn, it's not that easy. You know that.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, sitting up and leaning forward. “That falling in love with someone isn't easy? Of course it isn't. Love isn't easy. Not supposed to be. Or did you mean that having a relationship in this kind of work isn't that easy, especially when it's with someone else in this line of work? 'Cause if you did, no. I don't know that. I mean, sure. It is hard for a number of reasons that I don't have to tell you, but Lou, if two people care about each other enough and are willing to make it work, they can. Look at Perrie and I. Look at us.” he waves a hand between them. “Relationships of any kind are hard in this business, but they don't always end.”

“Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Dick.”

Dropping his head, he says “Nothing can happen, Zayn.”

“You never wanted this life forever, Louis,” Zayn says, standing. “Hell, you didn't really want it in the first place. But you let Nick and everybody else pull you into it.” He run a hand through his hair, taking a step forward. “What I want to know is, what happened to the Louis Tomlinson that I knew that was all full of life and had all these plans on what he was going to do once he got out? Where'd he go, Louis? 'Cause I'm not seeing him.”

Bringing his head back up, he spits out “The world, Zayn. The world is what happened. I got screwed over.”

“Then unscrew yourself!”

Ignoring Zayn, Louis stands and walks toward the window. “What about you, Zayn? Huh? You never wanted this full time either.”

“This isn't about me and you know it,” Zayn takes another step closer. “But you and I both know some people are meant for this life and this life only. That's me and Perrie. It isn't you.” Dropping his voice, he adds “You have the ability to do anything you want. And you're wasting it away.”

Objectively, Louis knows Zayn's right, but he doesn't care. “You know nothing.”

Zayn looks hurt for a second before schooling his features into something unidentifiable to him. “Fine,” he says, throwing his arms up. “You want to change the subject? That's fine. I was here to talk about Harry anyway.”

Louis shoots Zayn a warning glance. “Zayn.” He's irritated and when Zayn's irritated he says and does things he normally wouldn't an it ends up being bad for everyone involved.

Zayn ignores it. “Did you know that he likes you? Like really likes you?” That's actually something Louis didn't know, but he could've guessed. “He's told me as much. All he really wants is for you to give him the time of day. Every time I've been alone with him during the past week and a half he's grilled me about you. It's fucking annoying, but he likes you and I played along. Wish I hadn't,” he mumbles the last part. “Gave him false hope, I think.”

“Nothing can happen,” he repeats. All he really wants to do is jump through the window to get away from Zayn, but that's not a real option. 

Zayn narrows his eyes. “You keep saying that.”

“It can't.”

He throws his arms up again. “Alright. Fine. Nothing's going to happen.” He pauses, then “Tell me, what's going to happen when this is over?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Harry?”

“We'll take our shares of the money and walk out of each other's life for good.” He doesn't like it, but it has to happen.

Zayn's face drops in disappointment. “Okay, yeah. Alright.” He turns and walks to the door. When he gets there, he stops and turns around. “Not gonna lie, Lou. I suggested Harry for the job because I thought he'd be good for you. Obviously, I was wrong.” He turns again, but quickly turns back. “I will do my job and finish this out here, but after that I am gone. Out of your life forever. If you're so insistent about not being able to keep relationships, fine. You don't need me and I don't need you. Neither does Harry.”

With that he turns and walks out, slamming the door and leaving Louis to collapse in on himself.

**

“Niall, can I ask you something?”

Louis's standing in the doorway and when Niall looks up his face goes serious. “Yeah, sure, Lou.” He motions to the sofa. “What's up?” he asks, when Louis is sitting.

Zayn's pissed at him, so he can't talk to him about this. His next idea was to go to Harry, but it seems Zayn has mentioned their little spat to him and he's ignoring Louis as well. Niall was the next best thing. 

Louis must've been quiet for too long because Niall asks, “Is this something to do with you and Harry?”

“Not exactly,” he answers. “It's sort of something I've been thinking of for a while now. Harry's only made me want to think about it more.”

“What is it?”

“You ever think of getting out?” he asks, simply.

“No.”

“Why?”

Niall tilts his head. “I dunno. Just haven't. Think it's mostly because I enjoy what I do. I know the risks, but that's part of what makes it fun for me.”

Raising an eyebrow, “Never? Not once?”

Niall shakes his head. “No. I think another reason for that is because I've never had a reason to want to get out.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” Louis knows Niall has had relationships in the past, but they were never anything serious and he's always seemed fine with that. 

“You've been thinking of getting out?”

Louis shifts uncomfortably. “Yes. I always have. I never really wanted this for my whole life, you know.” Niall nods, but Louis thinks he doesn't actually know. “I mean, I had fun in the beginning. But so much has changed. The people have changed and the rules have changed. And all I've ever really wanted in life is a family of my own. Obviously, that can't really happen if I'm here. And I've never allowed myself to have a serious relationship because this line of work is too dangerous.”

“Harry's in this line of work,” Niall points out like it solves everything.

“That makes it worse,” he mumbles.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe Harry thinks this way too?”

“Yes, but what if-.”

Niall cuts him off. “Stop with the what if's. Nothing is ever certain, so you've just got to live life a step at a time.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It really is, mate.” Niall sighs. “Have you thought about talking to him?”

“I'm going to have to,” Louis snorts. “I've actually pictured myself married to him with three kids.”

Niall laughs. “Then talk to him. You can figure it out. If you want to get out get out.”

“You think I really could?”

“Yes.” Niall reaches over and pulls him into a hug. “You can do anything you want.”

“People used to tell me that as a child. I believed it until I grew up.”

Niall laughs. “Well, you wanted to rob Nick Grimshaw and you're doing it.”

“Fair point.” Louis finally returns the hug. “Thanks, Niall. You're a good friend.”

“Damn right,” Niall says, releasing him. “You'll figure it out,” Niall tells him as he's standing and going to the door.

“I'm sure you're right,” he says. Pausing in the doorway, he turns back to Niall. “Let me ask you something else: do you think you'll ever come across a reason to want to get out.”

Niall nods quickly. “Of course. But I'm a patient man, Tommo. I can wait until it comes to me.”

“You're a good guy,” Louis says as he walks out.

**

Zayn and Harry have both been ignoring him for two days. Actually, it's more Zayn has been avoiding him for two days, only talking when it has to do specifically with the job. Louis has been avoiding Harry. He hates himself. There's nothing worse than having your best friend hate you because you disappointed them, but he still stands his ground over his thing with Harry. At least for now. The talk he had with Niall has given him a lot to think about.

There's no avoiding them now. Group meeting and all that. “Alright. Let's get this over with,” he says as Frank – the last member of the group walks in. “Here's the plan.” Everyone groans. It's a bang-bang situation. One thing goes wrong they're all potentially screwed. He has no choice but to go over it again. 

Addressing Niall and Frank, “Niall, you do your thing. Frank raise hell with it. Drive Nick crazy. Niall, make sure you get the vault codes and when you finish there, get to your other position as quick as possible.” Niall nods. Louis turns to Zayn. “I'll meet you on the way to the vault. Not sure where, but I will.” Zayn nods. “Sam, Virgil, Turk, you will distract the vault monitors, while Liam hacks into the security system and replaces the live feed with the feed from our fake vault. Niall,” he turns back to him, “this is where you'll cut the power to the city. At this point, Zayn and I will break into the vault, which is when you,” he points to Perrie, “come in.”

“At this point,” Zayn speaks up, “We'll start bagging up the money and replace it with our bags.”

Louis nods. “Exactly. Now, Harry,” he turns to look at Harry. “You'll of course be with Nick. Wait three minutes after the power is restored and you're phone will ring. It'll be Niall, give it to Nick and Niall will tell him he's being robbed. This is so he won't have you arrested. You're just receiving the call. Niall, you'll tell him that if he doesn't let us go, we'll blow the place up.”

“Obviously,” Zayn says, “Grimshaw will not believe it. Harry, it's very important that you get out of there as fast as you can.”

“Yes,” Louis nods. “Liam, it's pretty much guaranteed that Nick will call the Feds. Make sure you intercept that call.”

“Already intercepted it,” Liam says, smiling.

Louis's not sure what Liam means by that, but he's learned that Liam never gives good explanations so he's not going to question it. “Good.” Turning to Turk and Virgil, “Make sure you get the vehicles ready. And it's very important, Niall, that the decoy explode when it needs to.”

“Yes, boss.”

“Also, it's very important that everyone gets out of the hotel as quickly as possible without being seen,” Zayn adds.

“Don't have to tell me twice,” Niall mutters.

“After that we'll meet up at the rendezvous point. Everyone got that?” He looks around the room as every one nods. “Any question? Concerns.” Another sweep across the room shows him Liam fidgeting. “Liam?”

“What if something goes wrong?” He clearly nervous.

“Nothing will,” he answers. It's a lie. Something always goes wrong, but having Liam not panic is worth a lie. Everyone always works best under pressure.

“But what if it does?” Liam insists.

“Wing it in the way you know won't hurt us.” he says. 

“Cross your fingers and pray,” Sam mutters.

“This'll work out just fine,” Zayn says. Louis can't tell if he's trying to convince them or himself. Probably the latter. He knows Zayn always gets jittery before a big job.

“It will,” Louis says turning to Zayn. “Always does.”

Niall snorts. “Says the one that just got out of prison.”

“Oi!” Louis whips around, throwing his pen at Niall, but missing completely. “That wasn't my fault, you Irish bastard.”

Niall just chuckles. He hears Zayn laughing and he thinks that maybe everything will work out.

**

“Pregame jitters acting up?” he asks, when he sees Zayn walk in, cigarette between his lips.

“You've no idea,” he mutters around the cigarette. “Look, about the other night-.”

“Don't,” Louis says, holding a hand up. “Everything you said was right. All of it. I apologize.”

“No, Lou,” Zayn leans against the counter. “If anyone should apologize it should be me. You obviously needed a friend and I wasn't that when I should have been.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head.

Zayn gives a small smile and they fall into silence. After a minute Zayn speaks up. “Forgive me, but I have to ask. What are you going to do about Harry?”

Louis contemplates his answer. He knows what he's going to do, but does he really want to give Zayn the satisfaction? After Zayn left the other night Louis had a lot of time to sit on the floor and think. And then he talked to Niall and that gave him more to think about. Basically, Louis has been doing a lot of thinking. Zayn's right – he usually is – if they're both willing to work on the relationship they can make it work, just like any normal relationship. 

He must've been quiet for too long because Zayn is saying “Louis,” and waving a hand in front of his face.

“You were right,” he settles on. “Like I said. About it all.”

A crease forms on Zayn's forehead. “Does that mean you're willing to give it a shot?”

Louis lets out a long breath. “It means that I'm willing to consider it depending on a couple of things.”

When Louis doesn't elaborate Zayn asks “What are those things?”

“The conversation I'm going to have with Harry and whether or not we get arrested tonight.”

Zayn laughs lightly. “Good plan.”

**

“You never did tell me,” Harry says as he walks in the room, “why you're just going to steal from Nick instead of turning him in or something?”

Louis blinks a couple of times. He wasn't expecting Harry to lead with that. “When Nick turned me in I lost everything. To Nick, his money is everything.” Louis stands. “Besides, as far as I could tell Nick hasn't done anything illegal since being in Vegas.”

Harry nods. “I see. Makes sense.” After an awkward silence – because Louis has no idea how to start even after preparing for this for two days – Harry says “So, what happens when this is over? Between us, I mean?”

“Same as if there wasn't an us,” Louis states. “You'll take your share and leave. And we'll be out of each other's lives forever.”

Harry snorts. “You're stupid.”

“Flattery will get you no where.” When he sees Harry isn't impressed he continues. “Look, Harry, you're young. You still have a chance at the real world. Get out. Take the money and go somewhere. Somewhere you can get a house like you want, get married and have a family. You can do it.”

“Zayn said you never wanted to stay in this business.” Harry's ignoring what Louis said. Fine. If he wants to be difficult, Louis can be too. “That you wanted to have a family and all that normal stuff. Why don't you?” When Louis's silent, Harry continues. “I could give you all that. You keep saying that I can get out. You're right about that, but you're wrong if you think you can't.” Keep going, Louis thinks. “If you say you don't want this as much as I do, okay. I'll do what you say and leave, but I won't be happy about it.” Harry pauses to smile and step closer. “I think you and I both know, though, that you do want it as badly. And if you do, I will fight till the end of the world to make sure that we're happy because that's what _we_ deserve.” Bingo.

“Well,” Louis drags the word out to three syllables. “I dunno, Harold, you really think we could make it work?”

Harry rolls his eyes and sighs. “You know we could.” 

“Maybe.” 

“I know what your issues are with it,” Harry starts, “but I think you're being stupid.”

“Not stupid, cautious,” Louis corrects. “Harry, before you say any more, just know that I apologize for the way I've been acting.”

“Apology accepted.” Harry leans closer, going in for a kiss, but Louis puts a hand on his chest and pushes lightly.

“Hold your horses, Harold.” Harry straightens up, looking a mix between surprised, hurt, and confused. “You can kiss me, but later. After we have a conversation.”

Harry's face turns hopeful. “Alright,” he says, taking a step back and lowering himself into a chair. “Let's talk,” he adds, propping his elbows on his thighs and clasping his hands.

This is the moment that Louis's phone alarm choices to go off. He takes it out of his pocket and shuts it off. Looking at Harry he says “Unfortunately, we can't talk now,” Harry's face falls a lot. “Got a job to do.” Harry stands, sighing and walks toward the door. “You've a lunch date – no, lets not call it that – a lunch meeting with Nick Grimshaw and I have somewhere else far away from that to be.”

Harry chuckles. “When can we talk?” he asks, over his shoulder.

“When we don't get arrested.”

“Okay,” Harry laughs.

Louis grabs his suit jacket from where he draped it over chair earlier and runs out after Harry.

**

“Mr. Grimshaw,” Niall says, sounding every bit as American as Virgil and Turk.

“Yes?”

Louis watches as Niall pulls out his identification. “Sheldon Wills. Nevada Gaming Commission. Could I have two minutes of your time?”

Nick sighs. “Of course. Anything for the N.G.C.”

Louis watches as Nick escorts Niall toward the blackjack tables. When he turns back to the bar, he sees Harry rounding the corner. Louis jumps to his feet, throwing a tip on the bar, and jogs up to Harry.

“Going to get ready for the fight?” he asks, when he lands in step with Harry.

“Yes.” After a beat, “Was that Niall I saw with Nick?”

Louis nods. “He's the only one of us that could go undercover with an American accent,” he explains.

Harry arches an eyebrow. “Undercover?”

“Nevada Gaming Commission.” Harry's brow raises higher. “Let's go upstairs and we can listen in.”

**

“You should know,” Harry starts as they enter the lift. “Nick has a couple of guys following you while your in the building.”

“You should know, young Harold,” Louis responds, “that I am friends with those two guys. They work for me. It's all part of the plan.”

“Is Nick the only one here that isn't working for you?” Harry asks, sounding enthralled.

“Just about.”

“For what it's worth, I don't understand why Nick doesn't like you,” Harry quietly admits.

“Neither do I,” Louis answers. He's going to add more, but the lift doors open.

When they walk in the room, Liam looks up. “Thank god,” he says frantically, jumping up. “I have to go repair one of the wires to the security camera for the vault.” Liam walks past them. “Don't know what happened. Watch Niall.”

With that Liam walks out, leaving them with the equipment Louis doesn't know how to work.

He looks at Harry helplessly. “Do you know how to work this shit?”

Harry chuckles lightly. “Some criminal you are. Can't do anything for yourself.” He moves to start fiddling with the monitors. 

“Why do you think I pay you all?”

“I thought you liked my company?” Harry responds, acting offended.

“Get this working, Styles,” Louis orders, sitting next to him.

The monitor comes to life, showing Niall and Nick moving into the Pit Boss's station. It's second later when Harry turns on the audio from Niall's microphone. 

“It only came to our attention this morning, Mr. Grimshaw,” Niall is saying. “Apparently he has a record longer than my arm.”

Nick's quiet for a minute which leaves room for Harry to say, “His accent is fantastic.” Louis hums in agreement.

“ _If_ he is who you say,” Nick responds, hailing a pit boss. “Charlie, call over Roman Escalante.”

The Pit Boss nods and walks off. Nick pulls out the paper with the new vault combinations. Harry and Louis lean towards the monitor. Nick reads the paper, then buries it in his jacket pocket.

“Did you make it out?” Louis asks.

“His head blocked the last two numbers.”

“Damn it. Niall better find a way to fix this.”

“You new at the commission?” Nick asks Niall.

“Been there about two years.”

“I know Hal Lindley over there. You work with him at all?”

Louis crosses his fingers and prays that Niall will answer correctly. “Not since he died last year.” Thank fuck.

The Pit Boss comes back into frame, Frank beside him.

“Mr. Escalante, would you come with us please?” Nick asks.

“What's this about?”

“I think it's best if we talked off the floor.”

They disappear off the monitor and Harry gets up to leave.”Where are you going?”

“I have to get ready for the fight,” Harry says like it's a well-known fact, which it is, but still.

“I have things to do, too,” Louis says, standing. “We can't both leave. Liam will kill us.”

Harry nods. “You 're right, but...” he trails off, a mischievous look crossing his face. “How about, we race to the door. First one there gets to leave.”

“Now, now, Harold we are not children,” Louis says. “I refuse to act as such.” Harry raises a challenging eye brow. “Yeah, alright.” Louis barely gets the words out before he's taking off towards the door. 

Even though he got a late start, Harry still beats him to the door. “Yes!” He exclaims, punching the air. 

“I don't understand. It doesn't take that long to get ready.”

“It does when you're me,” Harry says. “Make sure you don't get arrested tonight. I'd like to have that conversation with you,” he adds with a smile before walking out the door. Bastard

**

Liam, out of breath, comes back. “How'd Niall do?”

“Fantastic. Got the codes and everything.”

“Good,” Liam says, pushing Louis away from the monitors. “Hey, why's Simon in the lobby?”

Louis furrows his brow. Good question. “No idea. But I think I can use him.” He walks toward the door. “Make sure we don't get arrested, Liam,” he says over his shoulder.

“No problem,” Liam yells back.

“I've got a talk I need to have with Harry,” he mutters to himself.

**

Simon's standing just outside the restaurant waiting for the Maitre d' to seat him. This is good, Louis thinks. He just needs Simon to play along.

“Hey!” he calls out angrily, when standing behind Simon. Simon pivots around, eyes going wide for a second. “Try to keep your tongue in your mouth.” Okay, not the best thing Louis as ever said to start a fight.

Simon's eyes narrow. He's obviously a bit shocked to see Louis, but he's good at improv. “Yeah, pal,” he yells, “well only if you take you thumb out of your-.” He cuts off when two guards come up behind him. They start to pull him away. “Hey, do you have any idea who I am?” he demands. The guards keep pulling and Louis sends Simon a wink. Hopefully he won't be too angry.

He goes to sit at the bar an wait. After ten minutes the guards come back. 

“Mr. Tomlinson,” the one of the right says. “Mr. Grimshaw would like to see you.”

“I thought he might,” Louis says, nodding, standing to go with. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Simon watching, looking concerned. “All part of the plan,” he mouths and Simon nods.

**

Checking his Rolex, he's sees he's been in the room, with two completely silent guards for twenty minutes. He's spent twenty minutes in the interrogation room. Maybe not an interrogation room, but that's what it will be when he tells the story.

“How much longer do you think Mr. Grimshaw will be?” he asks, looking at the guard to the left of the door.

“Just a few minutes.”

Louis does a quick scan of the room, looking for – Ah. “No cameras in this room, huh?” he starts. “Don't want anyone seeing what happens here?” The guards say nothing. “He's not coming, is he?” The guards look at each other. “Who is?” he asks nervously.

His answer is a knock at the door and the guards smiling at each other. The door opens to reveal a man – the Bruiser, Louis knows – at least six-six, three hundred pounds and no teeth. If Louis didn't know better, he'd be terrified.

“I guess Mr. Grimshaw didn't like me being in his casino.”

The guards shake their heads as Louis shoots a sincere smile at the Bruiser, who snarls back, rolling up his shirtsleeves.

“We're going to step out now,” one guard says. “Let you talk things over alone.”

The guards leave, closing the door. Louis opens his mouth to speak and Bruiser's fist flashes out and knocks him down. Louis immediately stands, wiping a little blood from his lip.

“Jesus, Bruiser, not 'til later,” he says.

“Sorry, Louis,” Bruiser replies. “I – I forgot.”

“S' okay.” Louis shakes the pain off. “How's the wife?”

“Pregnant again,” he answers with a smile.

“Then we'd better get to work.”

He climbs onto Bruiser's shoulders – something he'd have to do even if he was taller – and pushes through the ceiling rafters, groaning every time Bruiser slaps his fist into his hand.

**

He pulls open the trap door in the lift's ceiling to reveal Zayn, hand raised. “Didn't think I'd make it, did you?”

Zayn shakes his head. “I always have faith in you, Tommo.” Zayn flashes him a quick smile. “Didn't trust _us_ , did you?”

“I do now,” he answers, grabbing Zayn's hand and pulling Zayn up to the roof of the lift.

Once Zayn has collected himself, he gives Louis a once over. “What happened to you?” he asks, motioning to Louis's busted lip.

“Part of the plan,” he replies, ripping off his jacket and shirt, exposing the rappelling line wrapped around his torso.

Zayn does the same. “How'd you get here, anyway?”

“Crawlspace and cashing in on a favor someone owed me,” he says, starting toward the lift shaft ladder.

“Get things sorted with Harry?” Zayn asks.

“As well as I could have at the time. Now, c'mon. Perrie's got about three minutes of air left.”

That gets Zayn moving. Nodding, he lets Louis lead him down an around the lift. Side-by-side they crawl onto the bottom of the lift, gripping the undercarriage of the lift to keep from falling. It'd be devastating if they did since they'd be dead, but this is not the most dangerous situation they've been in, though. 

Affixing suction-cupped anchors to his rappelling line, he asks, “Who do you like tonight?”

Zayn doing the same, gives him a bemused look. “What?”

“Tyson or Lewis.”

“The fight...?” Louis nods. “Lewis.” When Louis shoots him a look, he asks “You like Tyson?” Louis nods. “How strongly do you feel about it?”

“You looking for action?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Zayn shrugs. “I'd go in for a buck.”

“A buck it is.” They're ready now. Poised at the top, looking into the abyss of the lift scattered with infrared sensors. “Liam, we're ready,” he says into his mike.

Peering down into the darkness, they're preparing to to let go any minute. The tension is high.

“You ever rappelled before?” he asks Zayn.

“Never,” Zayn replies calmly. “You?”

“Nope,” he replies, popping the 'p'.

They're a weird sort of beeping sound an the infrared sensors go out. “Now!” he exclaims and they lean forward and fall. All he can hear is the whoosh of their bodies in motion and the whirl of their cords uncoiling. 

Suddenly, there's a snap – the cords reaching their full extension – and he bounces up, watching the floor recede.

“Aaahhh!” Zayn's yelling from beside him.

The cords bounce them up and down a few times, before they come to a rest about ten feet from the floor. Louis quickly pulls a slim blade out of his pocket and slashes the two coils straight across, sending him and Zayn tumbling to the floor just as the infrared lights come back on.

They stand simultaneously. Louis clutching his head and rubbing bruises he's sure will form. He looks over to see that Zayn's recovered a hell of a lot quicker than he has.

“You alright?” he asks, tilting his head.

“No,” Louis answers, “but you're sweet to ask.”

“Probably because of your old age.”

“Fuck off,” Louis mutters as he walks toward the lift doors. “Get over here and help, dick.”

Zayn chuckles, but complies. 

They ply the lift doors open and squeeze out. Louis can see that just beyond the next doorway stands three Uzi-carrying guards, hovering outside the vault door. Their backs are to the elevator, which is good. Louis and Zayn both snap their gas pellets and slide them into the corridor.

“Jesus, Ron,” he hears one of the guards say. “Was that you?”

Louis silently mouths a three count before he hears the thuds. Peering around the corner he sees the three guards lying unconscious on the ground.

Zayn starts forward, but Louis holds him back. “Not yet.” Counting to two in his head, he releases Zayn. “Okay.”

Stepping into the corridor, they wave the faint remnants of the gas from their noses, while tiptoeing around the guards.

“You think Perrie made it out okay?” Zayn asks. He asks it nonchalantly, but Louis can hear the twinge of worry in his voice.

“I'm sure she's fine.” Of course she is. She's Perrie.

Zayn nods. “Yeah, yeah, you're right.”

They reach the door and Zayn punches in the code.

“We owe Niall a lot.”

Louis's comment goes unanswered as the door slides open, revealing the vault door – sleek, immense and impregnable.

Jaw dropping, Louis mutters “Jesus.” It's more impressive than he thought.

“My wife is in there with a hundred sixty millions dollars behind that door,” Zayn says, unamused. “Let's get her out.” Zayn slaps the door hard, Perrie's signal.

After a minute, Zayn slaps the door and after another three seconds, he slaps it again, obviously impatient and worried. He slaps a fourth time and this time it's answered – a faint slapping sound.

“Okay,” Zayn breathes out.

Louis gets to work on unraveling a thin electrical wire connected to the detonator. There's two more faint slaps on the door, signaling that Perrie is ready. Louis nods to Zayn, who slaps the door twice in answer. They both step back, detonator in Louis's hand, wires attached to the vault door.

“Counting down from twenty,” Louis says, checking his watch. “Now.”

“Twenty,” Zayn starts. “Nineteen, eighteen, seventeen – you think Perrie's out of the way?”

“Fifteen – yes – thirteen.”

“Good. Eleven. Ten. Nine.”

“Eight. Seven. Six.”

“Five. Four. Three. Two.”

“One,” he says, pressing the detonator.

Nothing happens. Shit. He presses it again and still nothing. He. Will. Kill. Niall.

“What's wrong?” Zayn asks.

“I don't know!” Louis exclaims, throwing his arms up.

Coming over to look, Zayn asks “Did you check the batteries?”

Louis can feel himself pale and Zayn gives him a disbelieving look. Louis opens the battery compartment to check while Zayn walks over to the guards. The batteries are both at zero percent. He will absolutely kill the Irishman.

“You know,” Zayn starts, coming back over with batteries in hand. “You lose focus for one second in this game-.”

“And someone gets hurt,” Louis finishes, not liking his own speech being repeated to him. “I don't hear Perrie complaining.” Zayn shoots his head up and glares, handing him the batteries. Louis inserts them in and Zayn slaps the door twice more.

Louis presses the detonator, causing several muted, but powerful blasts. Zayn inches forward, cautious, pausing when he gets to the door.

“Do it,” Louis orders.

Zayn pulls and the door opens. Okay, so maybe he won't kill Niall. They step in and there's silence. The cash carts have crumpled and the vault gratings, blackened, have held.

“Amazing?” Louis mumbles.

Zayn goes to one of the racks and tentatively opens it. Perrie pops out, hair on end, looking like she just dropped out of a cyclone.

“Where the fuck have you been?” she spits out before throwing herself at Zayn.

They will not stop hugging. Louis clears his throat. “Um, not sure if you noticed, but we do have a job to do.”

That causes them to break apart. “Love you,” Zayn says, causing Louis to roll his eyes. Zayn never used to be so soppy.

They also don't have time for this. Right about now, Niall is calling Nick to tell him he's being robbed. Clockwork is everything. “Can we get to work?” Louis asks, throwing the first pile of money on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees them break apart. “Good, now do your damn jobs before I lock you in here for Grimshaw to find.”

Slapping the back of his head as she walks by, Perrie says, “Shut the fuck up, Louis,” causing Zayn to almost fall over in laughter.

**

Zayn has placed the six canvas bags, sealed tight and marked with an X, onto the vault lift and Perrie is grabbing their bags. The others will be here any second now and Louis needs to be back in the interrogation room.

“Alright,” Louis whispers, “I'll see you later.” He turns to leave, but Zayn grabs his elbow.

“What?” he whisper-yells.

They don't have time to argue so all he says is “Trust me,” before extracting himself from Zayn's grip and jogging away.

**

Bruiser throws a mean left hook across Louis's face as the door swings open an Nick is stepping in. Bruiser sees him and steps away, toweling off his bloodied knuckles. As Nick studies him, Louis does his best to play 'dead'.

“Wake him up,” Nick orders.

The two guards from earlier step in and slap him a couple of times. Louis's acts like he comes to, settling his eyes on Nick.

“Heya, Grimshaw,” he says, a little punchy. “How's the _other_ fight going?”

Nick is doing a good job of keeping his cool. “Did you have a hand in this?” he asks. “Did you?”

“Did I have a hand in what?” Louis replies, swaying on his feet as he stands.

Nick scrutinizes him. He looks to Bruiser and then back to him. “Get him out of here.” Thank fuck.

The guards grab him by the arms, dragging him out. Louis catches Bruiser's eye for a moment and barely winks.

**

Nick, brooding, follows them out to the front of the hotel, where his head of security approaches them.

“You get robbed or something, Grimshaw?” Louis asks. “That's a shame.”

Nick looks up, suspicious. “Stop there.” The guards stop and spin Louis around to face Nick. “Where. Is. My. Money.”

They hold each other's eye for a minute before Louis answers. “I've no idea what you're talking about.”

“Don't give me that shit,” he spits, getting in Louis's face.

“I'm being serious.”

Nick narrows his eyes. “You expect me to believe that you came all the way here without the intention of getting back at me?”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “No? Besides, in case you haven't noticed, but I was pounded to a pulp on your orders.” He waves a hand indicating the blood and bruises.

“Then why the fuck were you here?”

“To say that I owe you. A thank you, to be precise.” He's pouring every amount of sincerity he can muster into this. “I mean, yeah, you betrayed me and all, but I learned a lot from that. I don't want that life anymore, Nick. I'm leaving it and I have you to thank. Thank you.”

Nick's eyes narrow further. “I don't believe that.”

Louis does his best to shrug. “You don't have to, but it's the truth.” 

Nick steps back. “Take him to the exit and make sure he doesn't came back in.”

**

He sees them – all of them – standing in front of the Bellagio fountains in a single-file line, backs facing him, in perfectly pressed suits. He scans the line and yes. There's a curly head of hair, between Niall and Zayn. When he gets about a meter away, he just stands and listens.

“So, Grimshaw didn't suspect anything?” Zayn's asking Harry.

He sees Harry shake his head. “No, but I'm guessing he will when he realizes I've disappeared along with all his money.”

“Glad you came out of retirement for this?” Niall yells down to Sam.

Sam takes a minute to respond. “Only a little. Not as much action as I would've liked.”

He turns his attention to Frank and Virgil – who's saying that he wants to buy Utah with his share. Louis has to hold back a snort. He's not an expert on America, but he's pretty sure that won't happen.

“Good to know, you all are so worried about me,” he says. Several of them jump before they're all turning to face him, but he's only paying attention to Harry. As he turns around, Harry's smiling – dimple showing – but his face drops when he's sees the mess that is Louis.

Eyes widening, “Jesus, Louis. What the fuck happened?”

Louis shrugs, waving Harry off when he starts to come forward. “Part of the plan.” Harry doesn't look convinced, but he backs off. Walking to Simon, he says “How's it feel getting revenge?”

“You tell me,” he answers, smiling. “Listen, you ever need anything else please don't call me.”

Louis chuckles. “No problem.” Sticking out his hand, “It was good seeing you again.”

Simon takes his hand. “Wish I could say the same.” Simon releases his hand and moves to Zayn. “I know he pulled you into this. Don't let him do it again.” They shake hands and then Simon walks away.

“Well, I'm officially retired now,” Sam says before walking off in the other direction.

“What about you, Frank?” Zayn questions.

“Was thinkin' I'd go to Bali,” Frank says. “Hopefully, we never see each other again,” he adds before signaling to a cab and getting in.

Virgil and Turk are the next to leave with promises to invite them all out to Utah after they buy it. Zayn almost died from holding in his laughs.

“So, uh, yeah,” Liam starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “Please try not to need me again.”

Louis laughs. “Aw, what's the matter, Payno? Not enough chance of being caught?”

Liam smiles sheepishly. “I don't mind the danger of being caught. I just don't want to go to prison. 'Specially in a foreign land.”

His answer doesn't make much sense to Louis, but it's Liam and he never makes much sense. 

“Stop worrying so much,” Niall says. “It's not very becoming.”

“Fuck off.”

Niall laughs. Turning to Louis and Zayn, “It was nice working with you lads again.”

“Likewise,” Zayn nods.

“Unlike Liam, ring me anytime. I'm always up for it.” Turning to Harry, “Listen mate, if you were serious about that ballroom dancing thing I'm there for you.” _What?_

“I'll remember that,” Harry answers. When Louis turns to him, raising an eyebrow, Harry just smiles. That's fine. Don't say. 

Liam and Niall each wave and walk off, leaving Zayn, Perrie, Harry and himself.

“So, Zayn,” he starts, “I told you to trust me.”

Zayn nods. “You did.”

Louis sighs. He's just going to say it. “I'll miss you.” Zayn snorts. “No, I'm serious. I will. I'll miss you like crazy.”

He was going to keep going, but Zayn pulls him into a bone-crushing hug. “You're a dick.”

“So are you,” he says, hugging back.

“Let me know what you end up doing,” Zayn whispers. “You know, with Harry and all that.”

“I still haven't decided exactly,” he admits.

Perrie clears her throat, stopping Zayn from speaking. “Can I have my husband back or do you want him for yourself?” She's doing her best to look annoyed. It's not working.

Zayn squeezes a bit before letting go. “Call anytime.”

“Or don't,” Perrie adds.

Zayn nods to Harry in passing and something just occurred to Louis. “Wait,” he says, causing Zayn and Perrie to turn around. “I just realized that you and Perrie get double.”

Before Zayn can speak, Perrie's stepping up. “Oh no,” she says, wagging a finger at Louis. “My money is my money and his is his. If we happen to put it together to buy ourselves a house in the south of France that's nobody's business but our own.”

Louis holds his hands up and backs away. “Zayn, wrangle your wife. I'm scared.”

Zayn pulls a very proud looking Perrie away, leaving Louis and Harry alone. He's trying not to panic. It's the first time they've been alone – granted they are in the middle of the Las Vegas Strip, but they're alone – and he promised Harry he'd talk. He braces himself and turns around to face Harry, who's watching him carefully, like he expects Louis to make a run for it.

“Harry.”

“You promised me a talk,” he states.

“That I did, Curly.” He figures he might as well just say what he wants before letting Harry have a chance. “You should take your share and leave.” Harry opens his mouth to protest, but Louis barrels on. “In fact, I'm advising you to. But, before you decide to not listen to me, let me talk.” Harry nods. “I – everything Zayn told you about me was true. I never wanted this for myself. And now that I've met and know you I don't want it for you either. So take the damn money and get out of this life.”

“Why don't you do the same?” He doesn't sound upset, just curious.

“I'd love to, but people like me can't stay out of the job,” he says, somewhat remorseful.

Harry's brow furrows as he run a hand through his hair. “My dad once told me that no one can get out of the business.”

“He's right,” Louis says. “Not to mention any children we might have would end up like this.”

“Not if we don't let them,” Harry says, adamantly. “We can raise them better than that. Give them a better life than we had. It's not -.” He cuts himself off, eyes widening slowly. “You've thought about our kids?”

Louis shrugs sheepishly. “A little bit, yeah.”

“Huh, alright.” Harry quiets for a second. “If you think that no one can get out and stay out, why do you keep telling me to do that?” he asks, after a minute.

Really, Louis doesn't know why. Or at least, he does, but he can't actually explain it. “Because, Harry, you're you. People just take to you. People like you as soon as they meet you. It's one of the reasons you're so good at this. It was the reason I used you to get to Nick. But it's also the reason that you can stop this and do whatever you want in your life.”

“What's the point in that?” he questions, stepping closer to Louis. “What's the point in that when I can't do it with someone I care about?”

“It'd be hard,” he answers.

“Life is hard,” Harry counters. “We can make it work, Lou. We can.” Harry sounds like he's about to get on his knees and start begging.

“Okay,” Louis says. “Alright. You're right, but that's not exactly a conversation I want to be having in front of the Bellagio fountain.”

“So, you're willing to try this?”

“I'm willing to make it work, yes,” he corrects.

“You've no idea how happy I am you said that.” Beaming, Harry comes closer and wraps his arms around Louis's waist. “We do need to talk, though. Like soon. About our plans.” Louis nods. “But, I'd rather be kissing you right now.”

“I'd rather you be kissing me, too,” he says. Harry starts leaning in, but something pops into Louis's head and is threatening to explode unless he says it. “Wait, Harry,” he says, bringing an arm between them and placing his arm on Harry's chest. “I don't think I could go back to England. Like, you know, I did get out of prison and immediately left the country. Not something I was supposed to do.” Harry looks confused. “Just thought I'd tell you that now. I want you to know that there's a possibility you can't go home if you're with me. Needed you to know that before anything happened.”

Harry stares at him a minute before saying, “Home is wherever I'm with you.” Harry rolls his eyes at himself. “That was cheesy. I apologize.”

“No, don't. I quite liked it.”

Harry blushes. “Think I got that from a song or something,” he admits. “You should know, though, that I've never really considered anywhere home before.”

“Me either,” Louis admits. “So, we're cool?”

Harry chuckles lightly. “Yes, Lou. We're cool.” He starts leaning in again. When his lips brush Louis's he says, “Besides, I liked Perrie's idea of a house in the south of France.” And then he's connecting their lips. Yeah, he can definitely live with this.


End file.
